



NTKD B^■ 



THE 

IMPROVEMENT 

OF THE S*«rf^ 

TO WHICH IS ADDED, 

A DISCOURSE 

ON THE 

DUCATION OF CHILDREN AND YOUTH. 
BF ISAAC WATTS, B. B. 

FROM THE LAST LONDON EDITIQIf. 

NEW-YORK: 
PUBLISHED BY EVERT DUYCKINCKj 

NO. 68 WATER-STREET. 
1819, 



V 



ui- 



"2.6 



IM 
\l\^ 



ADVERTISEMENT. 

<•' Few books have been perused by me with greater plea- 
sure than his Improvement of the Miiid ; of which the radi- 
cal principles may indeed be found in Locke's Conduct of 
ihe Understanding; but they are so expanded and ramified 
by Watts> as to confer on him the merit of a work in the 
highest degree useful and pleasing. Whoever nas the care 
of instructing others may be charged with deficiency in his 
duty if this book is not recommended," 

Dr. Johnson's Life of Dr. Wafts. 






y. k, J. Harper, Printers, 
138 Fulton-Street. 



THE 

I.IFE OF THE 

REV. BR. ISAAC WATTS. 



DTI. Isaac Wafts was born at Southampton, July 17, 
1674. His father was the master of a boarding school in 
that town, of very considerable reputation. He was a suf- 
ferer for non-conformity, in the time of Charles II. and 
when at one time in prison, his' wife, it is said, was seen 
sitting on a stone near the prison door, suckling her soa 
Isaac. 

This soo was a remarkable instance o( early attention to 
books ; he began to learn Latin at the age of four, probably 
at home, and was afterwards taught Latin, GreeK' and He- 
brew, by the Rev. John Pinhorn, master of the free-school 
at Southampton, rector of All Saints, in the same place, 
prebendary of Leckford, and vicar of Eling in the New 
Forest. Thejiroficiency he made at this school, induced 
some persons of property to raise a sum snflBcientto main- 
tain him at one of the universities ; but his determination 
was soon fixed to remain among the dissenters, with whom 
his ancestors had long been connected. In 1690, he went 
to an academy superintended by the Rev. Thomas Rowe, 
where he had for his companions, Hughes the poet, and 
Horte, afterwards archbishop of Tuam ; Mr. Samuel Say, 
afterwards an eminent preacher among the dissenters, and 
other persons of literary eminence. It is well known that 
Dr. Watts stroye to wean Hughes from his attachment to 
the stage. In 1693, he joined the congregation which was 
under the care of Mr. Rowe, as a communicant. 

His application at this academy was very intense, and 
perhaps few young men have laid in a larger stock of vari- 
ous knowledge. The late Pr. Gibbons was in possession 
-of a large volume in his hand- writing, containing twenty- 
two Latin dissertations upon curious and important subjects, 
which were evidently written when at this academy ; and, 
says Dr. Johnson, " show a degree of knowledge, both 
philosophical and theological, such as very few attain by a 
inuch longer course of study." His leisure hours seem to 



4 THE LIFE OF THE 

have been very early occupied in poetical efforts, and par- 
ticularly when, after leaving the academy in his twentieth 
year, he went to reside with his father at Southampton, and 
spent two years in reading, meditation and prayer, to fit 
himself for the work of the ministry. 

At the end of this time, he was invited By Sir John Har- 
topp, to reside in his family at Stoke Newington, near Lon- 
don, as tutor to his son. Here he remained about four or 
five years, and on his birth day, 1698, preached his first ser- 
mon, and was chosen assistant to Dr. Chauncy, minister of 
the congregation at Marklane. About three years after, he 
was appointed to succeed Dr. Chauncy, but had scarce en- 
tered on this charge, when he was so interrupted by illness, 
as to render an assistant necessary ; and, after an interval of 
health, he was again seized by a fever, which left a weakness 
that never wholly abated, and in a great measure checked 
the usefulness of his public labours. 

While in this afflicting situation, he was received into the 
house of Sir Thomas Abuey, of Newington, Knight and Al- 
derman of London, where he was entertained with the ut- 
most tenderness, friendship, and liberality, for the space of 
thirty-six years. Sir Thomas died about eight years after 
Dr Watts became an inmate in his family, but he continued 
with Lady Abney and her daughters to the end of his life. 
Lady Abney died about a year after him, and the last of the 
family, Mrs. Elizabeth Abney, in 1782. 

" A coalition like this," says Dr. Johnson, "a state in 
■which the notions of patronage and dependence were over- 
powered by the perception of reciprocal benefits, deserves a 
particular memorial ; and I will not withhold from the read- 
er Dr. Gibbon's representation, to which regard is to be paid 
as to the narrative of one who writes what he knows, and 
what is known likewise to multitudes besides." 

The passage thus elegantly alluded to is as follows : " Our 
next observations shall be made upon that remarkably kind 
providence which brought the Doctor into Sir Thomas Ab- 
iiey's family, and continued him there till his death, a period 
of no less than thirty -six years. In the midst of his several 
labours for the glory of God, and good of his generation, he 
is seized with a most violent and threatening fever, which 
leaves him oppressed with great weakness, and puts a stop, 
at least to bis public services, for some years. In this dis- 
tressing season, doubly so to his active and pious spirit, be is 
invited to Sir Thomas Abney's family, nor ever removes 
from it till he had finished his days. Here he enjoyed the 



REV. DR. ISAAC WATTS. 

uninterrupted demonstrations of truest friendship. Here? 
without any care of his own, he had every thing which could 
contribute to the enjoyment of life, and favour the unwea- 
ried pursuits of his studies. Here he dwelt in a family, 
which, for piety, order, harmony, and every virtue, was a 
house of God. Here he had the privilege of a country re- 
cess, the fragrant bower, the spreading lawn, the flowery 
garden, and other advantages, to sootli his mind, and aid his 
restoration to health ; to yield him, whenever he chose them, 
more grateful intervals for his laborious studies, and enable 
him to return to them with redoubled vigour and delight. 
Had it not been for this most happy event, he might, as to 
outward view have feebly, it may be, painfully, dragged on 
through many more years of languor and inability for public 
service, and even for profitable study, or perhaps might have 
sunk into his grave under the overwhelming load of infir- 
mities in the midst of his days ; and thus the church and 
world have been deprived of those many excellent sermons 
and works which he drew up and published during his long 
residence in this family. In a few years after his removing 
thither. Sir Thomas Abneydies: but his amiable consort 
survives, who shows the doctorthe same respect and friend- 
ship as before, and most happily for him, and great numbers 
besides ; for, as her riches were great, her generosity and 
munificence were in full proportion : her thread of life wa,? 
drawn out to a great age, even beyond that of the doctor's ; » 
and thus this excellent man, through her kindness, and that 
of her daughter, the present, (1780) Mrs. Elizabeth Abney, 
who in a like degree esteemed and honoured him, enjoyed 
all the benefits and felicities he experienced at his first en- 
Irancft into this family, till his days were numbered and 
linished, and, like a shock of corn in its season, he ascen- 
ded into the regions of perfect and immortal life and joy." 
In this retreat he wrote the whole, or nearly the whole, of 
those works which have immortalized his name as a chris- 
tian poet and philosopher. He occasioaally preached, and 
in the pulpit, says Dr. .Johnson, though his low stature, 
which very liUle exceeded five feet, graced him witU no 
advantages of appearance, yet the gravity and propriety of 
his utterance made his discourses very efficacious. Such 
was his flow of thoughts, and such his promt umde of lan- 
guage, that in the latter part of his life he did not precom- 
pose his cursory sermons ; but having adjusted the heads, 
and sketched out some particulars^ trusted for success to his 
exttmporary powers. 

A 3 



6 THE LIFE OF DR. WATTS, 

He continued many years to study, and to preach, and to 
do good by his instruction and example, fill atlast the iniirm- 
ities oS age disabled hiai from the more laborious part of his 
ministerial functions, aad being no longer capable of public 
duty, he offered to remit the salary appendant to it, but his 
congregation would not accept the resignation. His annua* 
income did not exceed one hundred pounds, of which he al- 
lowed one third to the poor. 

His death was distinguished by steady faith, and compo- 
sure, and deprived the world of his useful labours and exam- 
ple, JNov. 25, 1748,in the seventy-fifth year of his age. He 
expired in that house where his life had been prolonged and 
made comfortable, by a long coii'inuaiice of kind and ten- 
der attentions of which there are few examples. 

Dr. Johnson's character of him, in that admirable life he 
wrote for the English poets, may be received with confi- 
dence. ''Few men have left such purity of character, or 
such monuments of laborious piely. He has provided in- 
struction for all ages, from those who are lisping their first 
lessons, to the enlightened readers of Malbranche and Locke : 
he has left neither corporeal nor spiritual nature unexamin- 
ed : he has taught the art of reasoning, and the science 
of the stars. His character, therefore, must be formed from 
the multiplicity and diversity of his attainsnents. rather than 
from any single performance ; for it would not be safe to 
claim for him the highest rank in any single denomination 
of literary dignity : yet perhaps there was nothing in which 
he would not have excelled, if he had not divided his pow 
ers to dilFcrent pursuits." 

His entire works have been published in six volumes, 
quarto, and more recently in octavo. With respect to (he 
work now before the reader, its continued popularity would 
be a sufficient test of i(s merit, were we not enabled to add 
the opinion of the eminent critic already so frequently 
quoted. "Few books," says Dr. Johnson, '-have been 
perused by me with greater pleasure than his IMPROVE- 
MENT OF THE MIND, of which the rational principles 
may indeed be found in Locke's Conduct of the Understand- 
ing ; but they are so expanded and ramified by Watts, as to 
confer on him the merit of a work in the highest degree 
useful and pleasing. WHOEVER HAS THE CARE OF 
INSTRUCTING OTHERS, MAY BE CHARGED WITH 
DEFICIENCY IN HIS DUTY, IF THIS BOOK IS NOT 
RECOMMEND£p." 



PREFACE. 



PART I. 

X HE present Treatise, if it may assume the honour of 
that name, is made up of a variety of remarks and directions 
for the improvement of the mind in useful knowledge. It 
was collected from the observations v^'hich I had made on 
my own studies, and on the temper and sentiments, the hu- 
mour and conduct of other men in their pursuit of learning, 
or in the affairs of life; and it has been considerably assist- 
ed by occasional collections, in the course of my reading, 
from many authors on different subjects. I confess, in far 
the greatest part,] stand bound to answerfor the weaknesses 
or defects that will be found in these papers, not being able 
to point to other writers whence the twentieth part of them 
are derived. 

The work was composed at different times, and by slow 
degrees. Now and then, indeed, it spread itself into 
branches and leaves, like a plant in April, and advanced 
seven or eight pages in a week : and sometimes it lay by 
without growth, like a vegetable in the winter, and did not 
increase half so much in the revolution of a year. 

As these thoughts occurred to me iijreading or meditation, 
or in my notices of the various appearances of things among 
mankind, they were thrown under those heads which make 
the present titles of the chapters, and were by degrees re- 
duced to something like a method, such as the subject would 
admit. 

On these accounts, it is not to be expected that the same 
accurate order should be observed, eitlier in the whoSe book, 
or in the particular chapters thereof, which is necessary in 
the system of any science whose scheme is projected at once. 
A book which has been twenty years a writing may be in- 
dulged in some variety of style and manner, though I hope 
there will not be found any great difference of sentiment ; 



, 8 PREFACE. 

for wherein I had improved in latter years, beyond wliat f 
had first written , a few dashes and alterations have correct- 
ed the mistakes : and if the candour of the reader will but 
allow what is defective in one place to be supplied by addi- 
tions froDi another, I hope there will be found a sufficient 
reconciliation of what might seem, at first, to be scarce 
consistent. 

The language and dress of these sentiments is such as the 
present temper of mind dictated, whether it were grave or 
pleasant, severe or smiling. If there has been any thing ex- 
pressed with too much severity, I suspect it will be found to 
fall upon those sneering or daring writers of the age against 
religion, and against the Christian scheme, who seem to 
have left reason, or decency, or both, behind them, in some 
of their writings. 

The same apology of the length of years in composing 
this book, may serve also to excuse a repetition of the same 
sentiments which may happen to be found in different places 
without the author's design ; but in other pages it was in- 
tended, so that those rules, for the conduct of the under- 
standing, which are most necessary, should he set in several 
lights, that they might, with more frequency, and more 
iorce, impress the soul. 1 shall be sufficiently satisfied with 
the good humour and lenity of my readers, if they will 
please to regard these papers as parcels of imperfect sketcl*- 
es, which were designed by a sudden pencil, and in a thou- 
sand leisure moments, to be, one day, collected into land- 
scapes of some little prospects in the regions of learning, 
and in the woild of common life, pointing out the fairest 
and most fruitful spots, as well as the rocks, and wilderness- 
es, and faithless morasses of the country. But I feel age ad- 
vancing upon me ; and my health is insufficient to perfect 
•what 1 had designed, to increase and amplify these remarks, 
to confirm and improve these rules, and to illuminate the 
several pages with a richer and more beautiful variety of 
examples. The subject is almost endless ; and oew writers 
in the present, and in the following ages, may still find suf- 
ficient follies, weaknesses, and dangers, among mankind, 
,^ to be represented in such a manner as to guard youth against 
^*i^em. 

These hints, such as they are, I hope, may be rendered 
some way useful to persons in younger years, who will fa- 
vour them with a perusal, and who would seek the cultiva- 
tion of their own understandings in the early days of life, 
k, Perhaps they may find gomethijig here which may wake a 



PREFACE. 9 

latent genius and direct the studies of a willing 'mind. Per- 
haps it may point out to a student, now and then, what may 
employ the most useful labours of his thoughts, and accele- 
rate his diligence in the most momentous inquiries. 
Perhaps a sprightly youth might here meet with something 
to guard or warn him against mistakes, and withhold him, at 
other times, from those pursuits which are like to be fruitless 
and disappointing. 

Let it be observed also, that, in our age, sereral of the 
ladies pursue science with success ; and others of them are 
desirous of improving their reason, even in the common 
affairs of life, as well as the men : yet the characters which 
are here drawn occasionally are almost universally applied 
to one sex ; but if any of the other shall find a character 
which suits them, they may, by a small change of the ter- 
mination, apply and assume it to themselves, and accept 
the instruction, the admonition, or the applause which is de- 
signed in it. 



PREFACE. 



PART ir. 

JL HE author's name, which is prefixed to this book, ren- 
ders it altogether needless for us to say any thing in order 
to recommend it ; and we need not assure any judicious 
reader, who has been conversant with Dr. Watt's writings, 
that this is the genuine work of that excellent author ; for 
he cannot fail of discerning the doctor's easy style and 
beautiful manner of expression in every page. We esteem 
it an honour done us by that truly great man, that he was 
pleased, by his last will, to entrust us with his manuscripts 
which he designed for the press : however he lived to pub- 
lish several of those himself, after his will was made ; so 
that not many remain to be published by us. Some indeejl 
there are remaining which he did originally intend for the 
press ; but his broken state of health did not permit him to 
finish them, and they are left too imperfect to be ever pub- 
lished. Of this sort, among others, is Tht larger Disco%irse 
on Psalmody, which he gave notice of his intention to pub- 
lish, in the preface tothe second edition of his Hymns, when 
he withdrew the shorter essay on that subject, which was 
annexed to the first edition. There are also among his 
manuscripts, some tracts relating to a doctrinal controversy 
which the doctor had been engaged in, but which the world 
seems to be tired of: so that, most probably, this Second 
part of the Improvement of the Mind, with the Discourse on 
Education, and some Mdiiions to the Reliqua Juveniles, are 
all the posthumous works of Dr. Watts that will ever be 
printed. 

As to this work in particular, a considerable part of it was 
corrected for the press by the Doctor's own hand : and as 
to the rest of it, he did not leave it so far unfinished as should, 
in his own judgment, discourage the publishing it ; for he 
has left this note in a paper along with it; "Though this 



m PREFACE. 

book, or the second volume of the Improvement of the 
Mind, is not so far finished as I could widi, yet I leave it 
among the number of books , corrected for the press, for it is 
very easy for any person of genius and science to finish it, 
and publish it in a form sufficiently useful to the world." 
The con-ections we have presumed to make are compara- 
tively but few and trivial : and when now and then it was 
thought necessary to add a line or two for the illustrdtion 
of any passage, it is generally put in the form of a note at 
the foot of the page. 

It may perhaps be expected we should make some apolo- 
gy for delaying the publishing of this book so long after the 
author's death ; a book that has been so much expected and 
so earnestly desired, as appears by several letters found in 
the Doctor's study, from eminent persons and from learned 
societies. There are various causes that have contributed 
to the delay, which the world need not be informed of ; 
but the remote distance of our habitations, and the multi- 
plicity of business in which each of us is statedly engaged, 
are circumstances pretty generally known, and which we 
hope will be admitted in excuse for some part of the delay, 
and some part the booksellers must answer for. However, 
we are the less solicitous to apologise for not publishing 
this book sooner, as we are satisfied it will be welcome now 
it comes; and that those who, upon reading the first volume, 
have so earnestly desired the second, \Vill not be disappoint- 
ed when they read it. 

We have only to add our most sincere wishes and pray- 
ers, that a book so admirably suited to improve the minds of 
men, especially of the rising generation, and to promote uni- 
versal goodness, as this appears to be, maybe attended with 
a blessing from on high. 

D. JENNINGS. 
P. DODDRIDGE. 

.7u«e26, 1751. 



THE 



IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIND. 



PART I. 



Directions for the Attainment of useful Knowledge. 



INTRODUCTION. 

No man is obliged to learn and know every thing ; this 
can neither be sought nor required, for it is utterly 
impossible ; yet all persons are under some obligation 
to nnprove their own understanding, otherwise it will 
be a barren desert, or a forest overgrown with weeds 
and brambles. Universal ignorance or infinite errors 
will overspread the mind which is utterly neglected and 
lies without any cultivation. 

Skill in the sciences is indeed the business and 
profession but of a small part of mankind ; but there 
are many others placed in such an exalted rank in the 
world, as allows them much leisure and large oppor- 
tunities to cultivate their reason and to beautify and 
enrich their minds with various knowledge. Even the 
lower orders of men have particular callings in life, 
wherein they ought to acquire a just decree of skill, and 
this is not to be done well without thinking and reason- 
ing about them. 

The common duties and benefits of society, which 
belong to every man living, as we are social creatures, 
and even our native and necessary relations to a family, 
a neighbourhood, or a government, obhge all persons 
whatsoever to use their reasoning powers upon a thou- 
sand occasions ; every houi- of life calls for some regular 
B 



14 INTRODUCTION. 

exerciso. of our judgment as to times and tiling, persons 
and actions ; witliouta })rudent and discreet determina- 
tion in matters before us, we sliall be plunged into per- 
petual errors in our conduct. No\s^ that which should 
always be practised, must at some time be learnt. 

Besides every son and daughter of Adam has a most 
important concern in the affairs of a life to come, and 
therefore it is a matter of the highest moment for every 
one to understand, to judge, and to reason right about 
the things of religion. It is in vain for any to say, we 
have no leisure or time for it. The daily intervals of 
time, and vacancies from necessary labour, together 
with the one day in seven in the Christian world, allow 
sufficient time for this, if men v.ould but apply them- 
selves to it with half so much zeal and diligence as they 
do to the trifles and amusements of this life; and it 
would turn to infinitely better account. 

Thus it appears to be the ncccssai'v duty, and the in- 
terest of every person living, to improve his under- 
standing, to inform his judgment, to treasure u|) useful 
knowledge, and to acquire the skill of good reasoning, 
as far as his station, capacity, and circumstances furnish 
him Avith proper means for it. Our mistakes in judg- 
ment may plunge us into much folly and guilt in prac- 
tipe. By acting without thought or reason, v/e dishon- 
our the God that made us reasonable creatures, we of- 
ten become injurious to our neighbours, kindred, or 
friends, and we bring sin and misery upon ourselves : 
For we are accountable to God our judge for every 
part of our irregular and mistaken conduct, where he 
hath given us sufficient advantages to guard against 
those mistakes- 
It is the design of Logic to give this improvement 
to the mind, and to teach us the right use of reason in 
the acquirement and communication of all useful know- 
ledge; though the greatest part of writers on that 
sub]ect have turned it into a composition of hard words, 
trifles, and subtilities, for the mere use of the schools, 
and that only to amuse the minds and the ears of men 
with empty sounds, which flatter their vanity, and pufF 
up their pride with a pompous and glittering show of 
false learning ; and thus they have perverted the great 
and valuable design of that science. 
A few modern writers have endeavoured to recover 



IMPROVEMENT, fee. 15 

the honour of Logic, since that excellent author of the 
Art of Thir>king led the way. Among the rest, I have 
presumed to make an attempt of the same kind, in a 
treatise published several years ago, wherein it was my 
constant aim to assist the reasoning powers of every 
rank and order of men, as well as to keep an eye to 
the best interest of the schools and the candidates of 
true learning. There I have endeavoured to show the 
mistakes we are exposed to in our conception, judg- 
ment, and reasoning; and pointed to the various 
springs of them. I have also laid down many general 
and particular rules how to escape error, and attain 
truth in matters of the civil and religious life, as well 
as in the sciences. 

But there are several other observations very perti- 
nent to this purpose, which have not fallen so flirectly 
under any of those heads of discourse, or at least they 
would have swelled that treatise to an improper size ; 
and therefore I have made a distinct collection of thenr 
here out of various authors, as well as from my own ob- 
servation, and set them down under the following heads. 

The learned world, who have done so much unmer- 
ited honour to that logical treatise, as to receive it into 
our two flourishing IJniversities, may possibly admit 
this as a second part or supplement to that treatise. 
And I may venture to persuade myself, that if the com- 
mon and the busy ranks^of mankind,as well as the scholar 
and the gentleman, would but transcribe such rules in- 
to their understanding, and practise them upon all oc- 
casions, there would be much more truth and know- 
ledge found among men ; and it is reasonable to hope 
that justice, virtue, and goodness would attend as the 
happy consequents. 

CHAPTER I. 

General Rules for the Improvement of Knowledge.'^ 

I. Rule. 

UeEPLY possess your mind with the vast import- 
ance of a good judgment, and the rich and inestimable 

* Though the most of these following rules, are chiefly addressed to those 
whom their fortune or their BtatioB requires to addict themselves to th*- 



16 IMPROVEMENT 

advantage of right reasoning. Review the instances 
of your own misconduct in life ; think seriously with 
yourselves how many follies and sorrows you had es- 
caped, and how much guilt and misery you had pre- 
vented, if from your early years you had but taken due 
pains to judge aright concerning persons, times, and 
things. This will awaken you with lively vigour to 
address yourselves to the work of improving your rea- 
soning powers, and seizing every opportunity and ad- 
vantage for that end. 

II. Rule. Consider the weakness, frailties, and mis- 
takes of human nature in general, which arise from the 
very constitution of a soul united to an animal body, and 
subjected to many inconveniences thereby. Consider the 
many additional vveaknesses,mistakes,anafrailties which 
are derived from our apostacy and fall from a state of in- 
nocence ; how much our powers of understanding are 
yet more darkened, enfeebled, and imposed upon by 
our senses, our fancies, and our unruly passions, £ic. 
Consider the depth and difficulty of many truths, and 
the flattering appearances of falsehood, whence arises 
an infinite variety of dangers to which we are expo- 
sed in our judgment of things. Read with greediness 
those authors that treat of the doctrine of prejudi- 
ces, prepossessions, and springs of error, on pur- 
pose to make jour soul watchful on all sides, that it 
suffer not itself as far as possible, to be imposed upon 
by any of them. See more on this subject, Logic, 
Part II. Chap. 3, and Part III. Chap. 3. 

III. Rule. A slight view of things so momentous is 
not sufficient. You should therefore contrive and prac- 
tise some proper methods to acquaint yourself with 
your own ignorance, and to impress your mind with a 
deep and painful sense of the low and imperfect de- 
grees of your present knowledge, that you may be in- 
cited with labour and activity to pursue after greater 
measures. Among others, you may find some such 
methods as these successful. 

1. Take a wide survey now and then, of the vast 
and unlimited regions of learning. Let your meditations 

particular improvement of their minds in g^reater degrees of Itnowledge; 
yet every one who has leisure and opportunity to be acquainted with 
such writings as these, may find something among them for their own 
use. 



OF THE MIND. 17 

run over the names of all the sciences, with their nu- 
merous branches, and innumerable particular themes 
of knowledge ; and then reflect how few of them you 
are acquainted with in any tolerable degree. The most 
learned of mortals will never have occasion to act over 
agaiw, what is fabled of ALlexander the Great, that when 
he had conquered what was called the Eastern World, 
he wept for want of more worlds to conquer. The 
worlds of science are immense and endless. 

2. Think what a numberless variety of questions 
and difficulties there are belonging even to that partic- 
ular science in which you have made the greatest pro- 
gress, and how few of them there are in which you 
have arrived at a final and undoubted certainty ; ex- 
cepting only those questions in the pure and simple 
mathematics, whose theorems are demonstrable and 
leave scarcely any doubt ; and yet even in the pursuit 
of some few of these, mankind have been strangely 
bewildered. 

3. Spend a few thoughts sometimes on the puzzling 
inquiries concerning vacuums and atoms, the doctrine of 
infinities, indivisibles, and incommensurables in geom- 
etry, wherein there appear some insolvable difficulties. 
Do this on purpose to give you a more sensible impres- 
sion of the poverty of your understanditi^, and the 
imperfection of your knowledge. This will teach you 
what a vain thing it is to fancy that you know all things ; 
and Avill instruct you to think modestly of your present 
attainments, when every dust of the earth and every 
inch of empty space surmounts your understanding 
and triumphs over your presumption. Arithmo had 
been bred up to accounts all his life, and thought him- 
self a complete master of numbers. But when he was 
pushed hard to give the square root of the number, 
2, he tried at it, and laboured long in millesimal fracW 
tions, until he confessed there was no end of the in- ' 
quiry ; and yet he learnt so much modesty by this 
perplexing question, that he, was afraid to say it v^'as 
an impossible thing. It is some good degree of im- 
provement Avheu we are afraid to be positive. 

4. Read the accounts ofthose vast treasures of know- 
ledge which some of the dead have possessed, and soirK^, 
of the living do possess. Read and be astonished at 
the almost incredible advances which have been made 

B 2 



18 IMPROVEMENT 

in science. Acquaint yourselves with some persons 
of learning, that by converse among them, and com- 
paring yourselves with them, you may acquire a mean 
opinion of your own attainments, and may be thereby 
animated with new zeal, to equal them as far as possi- 
ble, or to exceed ; thus'let your diligence be quickened 
by a generous and laudable emulation. If Vanillus had 
never met with Scitorio and Palydcs, he had never 
imagined himself a mere novice in Philosophy, nor ever 
set himself to study in good earnest. 

Remember this, that if upon a few superficial ac- 
quirements, you value, exalt, and swell yourself, as 
though you were a man of learning already, you arc 
thereby building a most unpassable barrier against all 
improvement ; you will lie down and indulge idleness, 
and rest yourself contented in the midst of deep and 
sh-^mefid ignorance. Midti ad scientiam pervenisseiit 
si se illuc pervenisse non putassent. 

IV. Rule. Presume not too much upon a bright 
genius, a ready wit, and good parts, for these without 
labour and study will never make a man of knowledge 
and wisdom. This has been an unhappy temptation 
to persons of a vigorous and gay fancy to despise 
learning and study. They have been acknowledged 
to shine in an assembly, and sparkle in discourse upon 
common topics, and thence they took it into their 
heads to abandon reading and labour, and grow old in 
ignorance ; but when they had lost the vivacities of 
animal nature and yo'.ith, they becnne stupid and sot- 
tish even to contempt and ridicule. Lucidas and 
Scintillo are young men of this stamp ; they shine in 
conversation, they spread their native riches before the 
ignorant; they pride tliemselves in their own lively 
images of fancj-^, and imagine themselves wise antl 
'learned ; but they had best avoid the presence of the 
skilful, and the test of reasoning ; and i would advise 
tiiera once a day to think forward a little, what a 
contemptible figure they will make in age. 

The witty men sometimes have sense enough to 
know the!'- own foible, and therefore they craftily shun 
the attacks of argument, or bold!}'' pretend to despise 
and renounce them ; because they are conscious of 
their own ignorance, and inwardly confess their want 
of acqiiaiiitance with the skill of reasoning. 



OF THE MIND. 19 

V. Rule. As you are not to fancy yourself a learned 
man, because you are blessed with a ready wit, so nei- 
ther must you imagine that large and laborious read- 
ing, and a strong memory, caa denominate you truly 
wise. 

What that excellent critic has determined when 
he decided the question, whether wit or study makes 
the best poet, may well be ajDplied to every sort of 
learning : 

Ego nee studium sine divite vena, 

: Jfec rude quid prosit, vidto, ingenium: alteriussic 

JlUeraposcit opemres, et conjurat amice. Hor. de Art. Poet. 

THUS MADE ENGLISH : 

Concerning poets, there has been contest, 

Whether they're made by art or nature best! 

But if I may presume in this affair, 

Among the rest my judgment to declare, 

No art without a genius will avail, 

And parts without the help of art will fail : 

But both ingredients jointly must unite, 

Or verse willnevershine with a transcendent light. Oldham. 

It is meditation and studious thought, it is the exercise 
of your own reason and judgment upon all you read, 
that gives good sense even to the best genius, and 
affords your understanding the truest improvement. 
' A boy of strong memory may repeat a whole book of 
Euclid, yet be no Geometrician ; for he may not be 
able perhaps to demonstrate one single theorem. — 
Memorino has learnt half the Bible by heart., and is 
becoming a living concordance and a speaking index to 
theological folios, and yet he understands little of di- 
vinity. 

A well furnished library and a capacious memory 
are indeed of singular use towards the improvement 
of the mind ; but if all your learning be nothing else 
but a mere amassment of what others have written, 
without a due penetration into their meanings, and 
without a judicious choice and determination of your 
own sentiments, I do not see what title your head has 
to true learning above your shelves. Though you 
have read Philosophy and Theology, Morals and 
Metaphysics in abundance, and every other art and 
science, yet if your memory is the only faculty em- 



£0 IMPROVEMENT 

ployed, with the neglect of your reasoning powers^, 
yon crfn justly claim no higher character than that of 
a good historian of the sciences. 

Here note. Many of the foregoing advices are more 
peculiarly proper for thor^e whoarc conceited of their 
abilities, and are ready to entertain a high opinion of 
themselves. But a modest, humble youth, of a good 
genius, should not suffer himself to be discouraged by 
anj"^ of these considerations. They are designed only 
as a spur to diligence, and a guard against vanity and 
pride. 

YI. Rule. Be not so weak as to imagine that a 
life of learning is a life of htziness and ease. Dare not 
give up yourself to any of the learned professions 
unless you are resolved to labour hard at study, and 
can make it your delight and the joy of your life, ac- 
cording to tlie motto of our late Lord Chancellor 
King, Labor ipse vohiptas. 

It is no idle thing to be a scholar indeed. A man 
much addicted to luxury and pleasure, recreation and 
past time, should never pretend to devote himself en- 
tirely to the sciences, unless his soul be so reformed and 
refined that he can taste all these entertainments em- 
inently i.i his closet, among his books and papers. So- 
brino is a temperate man and a philosopher, and he 
feedsupon partridge and pheasant, venison and ragouts, 
and every delicacy,in a growing understanding, and a se- 
rene and healthy soul, though he dines on a dish of sprouts 
or turni»)s. Languinos loved his ease, and therefore chose 
to be brought up a scholar; he had much indolence 
in his temper, and as he never cared for study, befalls 
under universal contempt in his profession, because he 
had nothing but the gown and the name. 

Vir. Rule. Let the hope of new discoveries, as well 
as the satisfaction and pleasure of known truths, animate 
your daily industry. Do not think learning in general 
is arrived at its perfection, or that the knowledge of 
any particular subject in any science cannot be im- 
proved, merely because it has lain five hundred or a 
thousand years without improvement. The present 
age, by the blessing of God on the ingenuity and dili- 
gence of men, has brought to hght such truths in natu- 
ral philosophy, and such discoveries in the heavens and 
the earth, as seemed to he beyond the reach of man. 



OF THE MIND. 21 

But may there not be Sir Isaac Newtonsia every sci- 
ence ? You should never despair therefore of finding 
out that which has never yet been found, unless you 
see something in the nature of it Avhich nmders it un- 
searchable, and above the reach of our faculties. 

Nor should a student in divinity imagine that our age 
is arrived at a full understanding of every thin^^ which 
can be known by the Scriptures. Ev;ery age since the 
Reformation hath thrown some furthei- light on difficult 
texts and paragraphs of the Bible, ijvhich have been 
long obscured by the early rise of antichrist ; and since 
there are at present many difficulties and darknesses 
hanging about certain truths of the christian religion, 
and since several of these relate to important doctnnes , 
such as the Origin of Sin, the Fall of A.dam, the Person 
of Christ, the Blessed Trinity, the Decrees of God, kc, 
which do still embarrass the minds of honest and mqui- 
ring readers, and which make work for noisy controver- 
sy ; it is certain there are several things in the Bible 
yet unknown and not sufficiently explained, and it is cer- 
tain there is some way to solve these difficulties, and to 
reconcile these seeming contradictions. And why may 
not a sincere searcher of truth in the present age, by 
labour, diligence, study and prayer, with the best use of 
his reasoning powers, find out the proper solution of 
those knots and perplexities which have hitherto been 
unsolved, and which have afforded matter for angry 
quarrelling ? Happy is every man who shall be favour- 
ed of Heaven to give a helping hand towards the intro- 
duction of the blessed age of light and love. 

VIII. Rule. Do not hover always on the surface 
of things, nor take up suddenly, with mere appearances ; 
but penetrate into the depth of mitters, as far as your 
time and circumstances allow, especially in those tilings 
which relate to your own profession. Do not indulge 
yourselves to judge of things by the first glimpse, or a 
short and superficial view of them ; for this will fill the 
mind with errors and prejudices, give it a wrong turn 
and ill habit of thinking, and make much work for retrac- 
tion. Subito is carried away with title pages, so that 
he ventures to pronounce upon a large octavo at once, 
and to recommend it wonderfully, when he has read 
half the preface. Another volume of controversies of 
equal size was discarded by him at once, because it 



23 IMPROVEMENT 

pretended to treat of tiie Trinity, and yet he could 
neither find the Avord essence nor subsistencies in the 
twelve first pages ; but Subito changes his opinions of 
men, and books, and thinks so often, that liobody re- 
gards him. 

As for those sciences or those parts of knowledge, 
which either your profession, your leisure, your incli- 
nation, or your incapacity, forbids you to pursue mth 
much application, or to search far mto them, you must 
be contented with an historical and superficial know- 
ledge of them, and not pretend to form any judgments 
of your own, on those subjects which you understand 
Tery imperfectly. 

IX. Rule. Once a day, especially in the early years 
of life and study, call yourselves to an account what new 
ideas, what new proposition or truth you have gained, 
what further confirmation of known truths, and what 
advances you have made in any part of knowledge ; 
and let no day, if possible, pass away without some 
intellectual gain ; such a course well pursued, must 
certainly advance us in useful knowledge. It is a wise 
proverb among the learned, borrowed from the lips 
and practice of a celebrated painter, nulla dies sine linea; 
let no day pass without one line at least ; and it was a 
sacred rule amon^ the Pythagoreans, that they should 
every evening thrice run over the actions and affairs of 
the (lay, and examine what their conduct had been, what 
they had done, or what they had neglected ; and they 
assured their pupils that by this method they would 
make a noble progress in the path of virtue. 

Nor Jet soft slumber close your eyes, 

Bofoi-e you've recollected thrice 

The train of actions through the day : 

Wliere have my feet chose out the way ? 
What have I learnt, where'er I've been, 
From all I've heard, from all I've seen f 
What know I more that's worth the knowing ? 
What have I done that's worth the doing ? 
What have I sought that 1 should shun ? i 
What duty have I left undone ; ^ 

Or into what new follies run ? S 

These sel f inquires are the road 
That leads to virtue, and to God. 



OF THE MIISD. 23 

I would be glad among a nation of Christians, to find 
young men heartily engaged in the practice of what 
this Heathen writer teaches. 

X. Rule. Maintain a constant watch at all times 
against a dogmatical spirit ; fix not your assent to anj^ 
proposition m a 'firm and unalterable manner, till you 
have some firm and unalterable ground for it, and till you 
have arrived at some clear and sure evidence ; till you 
have turned the proposition on all sides, and searched 
the matter through and through, so that you cannot be 
mistaken. And even where you may think j'ou have 
full grounds of assurance, be not too early, nor too 
frequent, in expressing this assurance in too peremptory 
and positive a manner, remembering that human 
nature is always liable to mistake in this corrupt and 
feeble state. "A dogmatical spirit has manyinconve- 
tiiences attending it : As 

1. It stops the ear against all further reasoning upon 
that subject, and shuts up the mind from all further 
improvements of knowledge. If you have resolutely 
fixed your opinion, though it be upon too slight and 
insufficient grounds, yet you will stand determined to 
renounce the strongest reason brought for the contrary 
opinion, and grow obstinate against the force of the 
clearest argument. Positivo is a man of this character, 
and has often pronounced his assurance of the Cartesian 
vortexes ; last year some further light broke in upon 
his understanding, with uncontrollaUe force, by reading 
something of mathematical philosophy ; yet having 
asserted his former opinions in a most confident man- 
ner, he is tempted now to wink a Httle against the truth, 
or to prevaricate in his discourse upon that subject, lest, 
by admitting conviction, he should expose himself to 
the necessity of confessing his former folly and mis- 
take ; and he has not humility enough for that 

2. A dogmatical spirit naturally leads us to arrogance 
of mind, and gives a 'man some airs in conversation, 
which are too haughty and assuming. Audens is a 
man of learning, and very good company, but his 
infallible assurance renders his carriage sometimes 
insupportable. 

3. A dogmatical spirit inclines a man to be censori- 
L>us of his neighbours. Every one of his own opinions 
appear to him written as it were with sunbeams, and 



24 IMPROVEMENT 

h6 grows angry that his neighbour does not see it in 
the same Hght. He is tempted to disdain his corres- 
pondents as men of a low and dark understanding, be- 
cause they will not believe what he does. Furio goes 
farther in this wild track, and charges those who refuse 
his notions with wilful obstinacy and vile hypocrisy ; 
he tells them boldly that they resist the truth and sin 
against their consciences. 

These are the men, that when they deal in contro- 
versy delight in reproaches. They abound in tossing 
about absurdity and stupidity among their brethren. 
They cast the imputation of heresy and nonsense plen- | 
tifully upon their antagonists ; and in matters of sacred 
importance, they deal outtheir anathemas in abundance, 
upon Christians better than themselves ; they denounce 
damnation upon their neighbours, without either justice j 
or mercy ; and when ihey pronounce sentence of di- j 
vine wrath against supposed heretics, they add their I 
own human fire and indignation. A dogmatist in reli- 
gion is not a great way off from a bigot, and is in high | 
danger of growing up to be a bloody persecutor. 

XI. Rule. Though caution and slow assent will ! 
guard you against frequent mistakes and retractions, 
yet you should get humility and courage enough to 
retract any mistake, and confess an error ; freouent 
changes are tokens of levitj' in our first determinations ; 
yet you should never be too proud to change your 
opinion, nor frighted at the name of a changeling. 
Learn to scorn those vulgar bugbears which confirm 
foolish man in his own mistakes, for fear of being 
charged with inconstancy. I confess it is better not 
to judge, than to judge falsely, and it is wiser to with- 
hold our assent till we see complete evidence ; but if 
we have too suddenly given our assent, as the wisest 
man does sometimes, if we have professed what we , 
find afterwards to be false, we should never be ashamed 
nor afraid to renounce a mistake. That is a noble 
essay which is found among the occasional papers, to 
encourage the world to practice retractions ; and I 
would recommend it to the perusal of every scholar 
and every Christian. 

Xli. Rule. He that would raise his judgment 
above the vulgar rank of mankind, and learn to pass a* 
ust sentence on persons and things, mus ttake heed of a 



OP THE MIND. 25 

fanciful temper of mind, and a iiumorous conduct in his 
affairs. Fancy and humour early and constantly indul- 
ged, may expect an old age overrun with follies. 

The notion of a humorist is one that is greatly pleas- 
ed, or greatly displeased with little things, who sets 
his heart much upon matters of very small importance, 
who has his will determined every day by trifles, his 
action* seldom directed by the reason and nature of 
things, and his passions frequently raised by things of 
little moment. Where this practice is allowed, it 
will insensibly warp the judgment to pronounce little 
things great, and tempt you to lay a great weight 
upon them. In short, this temper will incline you to 
pass an unjust value on almost every thing that occurs ; 
and every step you take in this path, is just so far out 
of the way to wisdom. 

XIIl^. Rule. For the same reason have a care of tri- 
fling with things important and momentous, or of sport- 
ing with things awful and sacred ; do not indulge a spirit 
of ridicule, as some witty men do on all occasions and 
subjects. This will as unhappily bias the judgment on 
the other side, and incline you to pass a low esteem 
on the most valuable objects. Whatsoever evil habit 
we indulge in practice, it will insensibly obtain a power 
over our understanding, md betray us into many errors, 
Jocander is ready with his jest to answer every thing 
that he hears ; he reads books in the same jovial hu- 
mour, and has gotten the art of turning every thought 
and sentence into merriment. How many awkward 
and irregular judgments does this man pass upon sol- 
emn subjects, even when he designs to be grave and in 
earnest? His mirth and laughing humour is formed 
into habit and temper, and leads his understanding 
shamefully astray. You will see him wandering in 
pursuit of a gay flying feather, and he is drawn by a 
kind of IGNIS fatuus into bogs and mire, almost every 
day of his life. 

XIV. Rule. Ever maintain a virtuous and pious frame 
of spirit ; for an indulgence of vicious inclinations deba- 
ses the understanding, and perverts the judgment. 
Whoredom and wine,and new wine, take away the heart 
and soul, and reason of a man. Sensuality ruins the 
better faculties of the mind ; an indulgence to appetite 
and passion enfeebles the powers of reason, it makes 



26 IMPROVEMENT 

the judgment weak and susceptive of every falsehood, 
and especially of such mistakes as have a tendency 
tov^^ards the gratification of the animal ; and it warps 
the soul a side strangely from that steadfast honesty and 
integrity that necessiarily helongs to the pursuit ot truth. 
It is the virtuous man who is in a fair way to wisdom. 
" God gives to those that are good in his sight, wisdom, 
and knowledge, and joy." Ecc. ii. 26. 

Piety towards God, as well as sobriety and virtue, 
are necessary qualifications to make a truly wise and 
judicious man. He that abandons religion must act in 
such a contradiction to his own conscience and besi; 
judgment, that he abuses and spoils the faculty itself. 
It is thus in the nature of things, and it is thus by the 
righteous judgment of God ; even the pretended sages 
among the heathens, who did not like to retain God in 
their knowledge, they v.ere given up to a reprobate 
mind, uc vow ahiuy.Qv an undistinguishing or injudicious 
mind, so that they judged inconsistently, and practised 
mere absurdities, tol •j.-.-i ctr-iKovr-ji , Rom. i. ^8. 

And it is the character of the slaves of antichrist, % 
Thess. ii. 10. 8ic. that those "who receive not the love 
of the truth, were exposed to the power of diabolical 
sleights and lying wonders." When divine revelation 
shines and blazes in the face of men with glorious evi- 
dence, and they wink their eyes against it, the God of 
this world is suffered to blind them even in the most 
obvious, common, and sensible thmgs. The great God 
of heaven, for this cause, sends them strong delusions 
that they should believe a lie ; and the nonsense of 
transubstantiation in the popish world, is a most glar- 
ing accomplishment of this prophecy, beyond even 
what could have been thought of or expected among 
creatures who pretend to reason. 

XV. Rule. Watch against the pride of your 
own reason, and a vain conceit of your own intel- 
lectual powers, with the neglect of divine aid and 
blessing. Presume not upon great attainments in 
knowledge by your own self-sufficiency ; those who 
trust to their own understandings entirely , are pro- 
nounced fools in the word of God ; and it is the wisest 
of men gives them this character, " he that trustetli 
in his own heart is a fool." Prov. xxviii. 26. And the 
same divine writer advises us " to trust in the Lord with 



OF THE MIND. 27 

Jill our heart, and not to lean to our own understandings, 
nor to be wise in our OAvn eyes." Chap. iii. 5, 7. 

Tiiosewho, witha neglect of religion, and dependence 
on God, apply themselves to search out every article 
in the things of God by the mere dint of their own 
reason, have been suffered to run into wild excesses of 
foolery, and strange extravagance of opinions. Every 
one who pursues this vain course, and will not ask for 
the conduct of God in the study of religion, has just 
reason to f^ar he shall be left of God, and given up a 
prey to a thousand prejudices ; that he shall be con- 
signed over to the follies of his own heart, and pursue 
his own temporal and eternal ruin. And even in com- 
mon studies, we should, by humility and dependence, 
engage the God of truth on our side. 

XVI. Rule. Offer u{) therefore your daily requests 
to God, the Father of lights, that he would bless all 
your attempts and labours in reading, study, and con- 
versation. Think with yourself, how easily and how 
insensibly, by one turn of thought, he can lead you 
into a large scene of useful ideas ; he can teach you to 
lay hold on a clue w^hich may guide your thoughts with 
safety and ease through all the difficulties of an intricate 
subject. Think how easily the Author of your beings 
can direct your motions by his providence, so that the 
glance of an eye, or a word striking the ear, or a sud- 
den turn of the fancy, shall conduct you to a train of 
happy sentiments. By his secret and supreme meth- 
od of government, he can draw you to read such a trea- 
tise, or converse with such a person, who may give you 
more light into some deep subject in an hour, than you 
could obtain by a month of your own solitary labour. 

Think with yourself, with how much ease the God 
of spirits can cast into your minds some useful suggesr 
tion, and give a happy turn to your own thoughts, for 
the thoughts of those with Avhom you converse, whence 
you may derive unspeakable light and satisfaction in a 
matter that has long puzzled and entangled you ; he 
can show you a ^^ path which the vulture's eye hath not 
seen,'^ and lead you by some unknown gate or portal, 
out of a wilderness and labyrinth of difficulties wherein 
you have been long wanderiuj^. 

Implore constantly his divine grace to point your in- 
clination to proper studies, and to fix your heart there. 
He can keep off temptations on the right hand and on 



28 IMPROVEMENT 

the left, both by the course of his providence, and by 
the secret and insensible intimations of his Spirit He 
Qan guard your understandings from every evil influ- 
ence of error, and secure you from the danger of evil 
books and men, which might otherwise have a fatal 
effect, and lead you into pernicious mistakes. 

Nor let this sort of advice fall under the censure of 
the godless and profane, as a mere piece of bigotry or 
enthusiasm, derived from faith and the Bible ; for the 
reasons which I have given to support this pious prac- 
tice of invoking the blessing of God on our studies, are 
derived from the light of nature as well as revelation. 
He that made our souls, and is the Father of spirits, 
shall he not be supposed to have a most friendly influ- 
ence towards the instruction and government of them ? 
The Author of our rational powers can involve them in 
darkness when he pleases, by a sudden distemper, or 
he can abandon them to wander into dark and foolish 
opinions when they are filled with a vain conceit of 
their own light. Efe expects to be acknowledged in the 
common affairs of life, and he does as certainly expect 
it in the superiour operations of the mind, and in the 
search of knowledge and truth. The very heathens, 
by the light of reason,wrere taught to say, " A Jove Prin- 
ctpium MusoB." In works of learning they thought it 
necessary to begin with God. Even the poets call 
upon the muse as a goddess to assist them in their 
compositions. 

The first lines of Homer in his Iliad and Odyssey, 
the first line of Musseus in his song of Hero and Le- 
ander, the beginning of Hesiod in his poem of Weeks 
and Days, and several others, furnish us with sufficient 
examples of this kind ; nor does Ovid leave out this 
piece of devotion as he begins his stories of the Met- 
amorphosis. Christianity so much the more obliges 
us by the precepts of Scripture to invoke the assistance 
of the true God in all our labours of the mind, for the 
improvement of ourselves and others. Bishof) Saun- 
derson says, that study without prayer is atheism, as 
well as that prayer without study is presumption. 
And we are still more abundantly encouraged by the 
testimony of those who have acknowledged from their 
own experience, that sincere prayer was no hindrance 
to their studies ; they have gotten more knowledge 
sometimes upon their knees, than by their labour m 



OF THE MIND. 29 

perHsing a variety of authors, and they have left this 
observation for such as follow, Bene ordsse est bene stu- 
duisse, Praying is the best studying. 

To conclude, let industry and devotion join together, 
and you need not doubt the happy success; Prov. ii. H, 
" Incline thine ear unto wisdom, apply thine heart to 
understanding ; cry after knowledge, and lift up thy 
voice ; seek her as silver, and search for her as forbid- 
den treasures : Then shalt thou understand the fear of 
the Lord," &c. which is " the beginning of wisdom," 
It is " the Lord who gives wisdom, even to the simple, 
and out of his mouth cometh knowledge and unaei- 
standing." 

CHAP. II. 

Observation, Reading, Instruction by Lectures, Con- 
versation, and Study, compared. 

X HERE are five eminent means or methods where- 
by the mind is improved in the knowledge of things; 
and these are observation, reading, instruction by lec- 
tures, conversation, and meditation, which last in a 
most peculiar manner, is called study. Let us survey 
the general definitions or description of them all. 

I. Observation is the notice that we tiike of ail occur- 
rences in human hfe, whether they are sensible or intel- 
lectual, whether relating to persons or things, to our- 
selves or others. It is this that furnishes us, even from 
our infancy, with a rich variety of ideas and proposi- 
tions, words and phrases ; it is by this we know that fire 
v.'Ml burn, that the sun gives light, that a horse eats grass, 
that an acorn produces an oak, that man is a being ca- 
pable of reasoning and discourse, that o'ur judgment 
IS weak, that our mistakes are many, that our sorrows 
are great, that our bodies die and are carried to the 
grave, and that one generation succeeds another. All 
those things which we see, which we hear or feel, 
which we perceive by sense or consciousness, or which 
we know in a direct manner, with scarce any exercise 
of our reflecting faculties or our reasoning powers, may 
be included under the general name of observation. 

When this observation relates to any thing that im- 
mediately concerns ourselves, and of which we are 
C 2 



so IMPROVEMENT 

conscious, it may be called experience. So I am said 
to know or experience that I have in myself a power 
of thinking, fearing, loving, &c. That I have appetites 
and passions working in me, and many personal oc- 
currences have attended me in this life. 

Observation therefore includes all that Mr. Locke 
means by sensation and reflection. 

Wiien we are searching out the nature or properties 
of any being by various methods of trial ; or when we 
apply some active powers, or set some causes to work, 
to observe what effects they would produce, this sort 
of observation is called experiment. So when I throw 
a bullet into water, 1 find it sinks ; and when 1 throw the 
same bullet into quicksilver, 1 see it swims ; but if I 
beat out this bullet into a thin hollow shape like a dish, 
then it will swim in the water too. So when 1 strike 
two flints together, I find they produce fire ; when I 
throw a seed into the earth, it grows up into a plant. 

All these belong to the first method of knowledge, 
which I shall call observation. 

II. Reading is that means or metliod of knowledge, 
wherebj^ " we acquaint ourselves Avith what other men 
have written, or published to the world in their wri- 
tings." These arts of reading and writing, are of infi- 
nite advantage ; for by them we are made partakers of 
the sentiments, observations, reasonings, and improve- 
ments, of all the learned world, in the most remote 
nations, and in former ages, almost from the beginning 
of mankind. 

III. Public or private lectures are such " verbal in- 
structions as are given by a teacher while the learners 
attend in silence." This is the way of learning reli- 
gion from the pulpit, or of philosophy or theology 
from the professor's chair, or of mathematics by a 
teacher showing us various theorems or problems, i. 
c. speculations or practices by demonstration and 
operation, with all the instruments of art necessary to 
those operations. 

IV. Conversation is another method of improving 
our minds, wherein " by mutual discourse and inquiry 
we learn the sentiments of others, as well as commu- 
nicate our sentiments to others in the same manner." 
Sometimes indeed, though both parties speak by turns, 
yet the advantage is only on one sid€ ; as, when a 



OF THE MIND. Si 

teacher and a learner meet and discourse together; 
but frequently the profit is mutual. Under this head 
of conversation, we may also rank disputes of various 
kinds. 

V. Meditation or study includes all those " exercises 
of the mind, whereby we render all the former meth- 
ods useful, for our increase in true knowledge and wis- 
dom." It is by meditation we come to confirm our 
memory of things that pass through our thoughts in 
the occurrences of life, m our own experiences, and in 
the observations we make ; it is by meditation that we 
draw various inferences, and establish in our minds 
general principles of knowledge. It is by meditation 
that we compare the various idpas which we derive 
from our senses, or from the operations of our souls, 
and join them in propositions. It is by meditation 
that we fix in our memc^ry whatsoever we learn, and 
form our own judgment of the truth or falsehood, 
the strength or weakness of what others speak or 
write. It is meditation or study that drav.s out 
long chains of argument, and searches and finds deep 
and difiicult truths, which before lay concealed in dark- 
ness. 

It would be a needless thing to prove that our own 
solitary meditations, together with the few observa- 
tions that the most part of mankind are capable of ma- 
king, are not sufficient, of themselves, to lead us into 
the attainment of any considerable proportion of know- 
ledge, at least in an age so much improved as ours is, 
withoutthe assistance of conversation and reading, and 
other proper instructions that are to be attained in our 
days. Yet each of these five methods have their peculiar 
advantages, whereby they assist each other ; and their 
peculiar defects, wiiich have need to be supplied by the 
other's assistance. Let us trace over some of the par- 
ticular advantages of each. 

I. One method of improving the mind, is observation, 
and the advantages of it are these : 

i. It is owing to observation that our " mind is fur- 
nished with the first simple and complex ideas." It is 
this lays the ground work and foundation of all know- 
ledge, and makes us capable of using a.nj of the other 
methods for improving the mind ; for if we did not 
attain a variety of sensible and intellectual ideas by 



1 



32 IMPROVEMENT 

the sensations of outward objects, by the consciousness i 
of our own appetites and passions, pleasures and pains, 
and by inAvard experience of tlie aclinj^s of our own 
spirits, it would be impossible either for men or books 
to teach us any thing. It is observation that must give 
us our first ideas of things, as it includes in it sense and 
consciousness. 

2. All our knowledge derived from observatiOTi, 
whether it be of single ideas or of propositions, is know- 
ledge gotten at first hand. Hereby we see and know 
things as they are, or as they appear to us ; w'e take 
the impressions of them on our minds from the origi- 
nal objects themselves, which give a clearer and stron- 
ger conception of things ; these ideas are more lively, 
and the propositions (at least in many cases) are much 
more evident. Whereas v:hat knowledge v/e derive 
from lectures, reading and conversation, is but the co- 
py of other men's ideas, that k, the picture of a pic- 
ture ; and it is one remove further from the original. 

3. Another advantage of observation is, that we may 
gain knowledge all the day long, and every moment of 
our lives, and ever;^ moment of our existence we may 
be adding something to our intellectual treasures 
thereby, except only w hile we are asleep ; and even 
then the remembrance of our dreaming will teach \js 
some truths, and' lay a foundation for a better acquain- 
tance with human nature, both in the powers and in 
the frailties of it. 

II. The next way of improving the mind is by read- 
ing, and the advantages of it are such as these : 

1. By reading we acquaint ourselves in a very exten- 
sive manner " with the affairs, actions, and thoughts 
of the living and the dead, in the most remote nations, 
and most distant ages ;" and that with as much ease 
^s though they lived in our own age and nation. By 
reading of books, we may learn something of all parts 
of mankind ; whereas, by observation, we learn all 
from ourselves, and only what comes within our own 
direct cognizance ; by conversation we can only enjoy 
the assistance of a very few persons, viz. those who are 
near us, and live at the same time when we do, that is, 
our neighbours and contemporaries; but our know- 
ledge is much more narrowed still, if we confine our- 



OF THE MIND. 35 

selves merely to our own solitary reasonings, without 
much observation or reading. For then ail our im- 
provement must arise only from our own inward pow- 
ers and njeditations. 

2. By reading we learn not only the actions and sen- 
timents of different nations and ages, but we transfer 
to ourselves the knowledge and improvements of the 
" most learned men, the wisest and the best of man- 
kind," when or wheresoever they lived : For though 
many books have been written by weak and injudicious 
persons, yet the most of those books which have ob- 
tained great reputation in the world, are the products 
of great and wise men in their several ages and na- 
tions ; whereas we can obtain the conversation and in- 
struction of those only who are within the reach of 
our dwellings, or our acquaintance, whether they are 
wise or unwise; and sometimes that narrclw spheVe 
scarce affords any person of great eminence in wisdom 
or learning, unless our insti-ucter happen to have this 
character. And as for our own study and meditation, 
even when we arrive at some good degrees of learning, 
our advantage for further improvement in knowledge 
by them is still far more contracted than what we may 
derive from reading. 

S. When we read good authors we learn " the best, 
the most laboured, and most refined sentiments even 
of those wise and learned men ;" for they have studi- 
ed hard, and have committed to writing their maturest 
thoughts, and the result of their long study and ex- 
perience ; whereas by conversation, and in some lec- 
tures, we obtain many times, only the present thoughts 
of our tutors or friends, Avhich (though they may be 
bright and useful) yet, at first perhaps, may be sudden 
and indigested, and are mere hints which have risen to 
no maturity. 

4. It is another advantage of reading, that we may 
" review what we have read ;" we may consult the 
page again and again, and meditate on it at successive 
seasons in our serenest and retired hours, having the 
book alwaj^s at hand ; but what we obtain by conver- 
sation and in lectures, is oftentimes lost again as soon 
as the company breaks up, or at least when the day 
vanishes ; unless we happen to have the talent of a 
good memory, or quickly reth'e and note down what 



34 IMPROVEMENT 

remarkables we have found in those discourses. And 
for the same reason, and for the Avant of retiring and 
writing;, many a learned man has lost several use- 
ful meditations of his own, and could never recal th»m 
again. 

ill. The advantages of verbal instructions by public 
or private lectures are these : 

1. There is something more sprightly, more delight- 
ful and entertaining in the living discourse of a wise, 
learned, and well qualified teacher, than there is in the 
silent and sedentary practice of roiading. The very 
turn of voice, the good pronunciation, and the })olite 
and alluring manner which some teachers have attained, 
will engage the attention, keep the soul fixed, and con- 
vey and insinuate into the mind the ideas of things in 
a more lively and forcible way, than the mere reading 
of books in the silence and retirement of the closet. 

S. A tutor or instructer when he paraphrases and ex- 
plains other authors, can " mark out the precise point 
of difficulty or controversy," and unfold it. He can 
show you which paragraphs are of greatest importance, 
and which are of less moment. He can teach his hear- 
ers what authors, or what parts of an author, are best 
Avorth reading on any particular subject ; and thus save 
his disciples ranch time and pains, by shortening the 
labours of their closet and private studies. He can 
show you what were the doctrines of the ancients in a 
compendium, which perhaps would cost much labour 
and the perusal of many books to attain. He can inform 
you what new doctrines or sentiments are arising in the 
world, before they come to be public ; as w^ell as ac- 
quaint you with his own private thoughts, and his own 
experiments and observations, which never were, and 
perhaps never will he published to the Avorld, and yet 
may be very valuable and useful. 

S. A living instructer can convey to our senses those 
notions with which he would furnish our minds, when 
he teaches us natural philosophy, or most parts of 
mathematical learning. He can make the experim.ent.s 
before our eyes. He can describe figures and diagrams, 
point to the lines and angles, and make out the demon- 
stration in a more intelligible manner by sensible 
means, Avhich cannot so w-ell be done by mere reading, 
even though we should have the same figures lying in it 



OF THE3imD. s:, 

book before our eyes A living teacher, therefore, is a 
most necessary help in these studies. 

I might add also, that even where the subject of dis- 
course is moral, logical, or rhetorical, fee. and which 
does not directly come under the notice of our serlses, 
a tutor may explain his ideas by such familiar exam- 
ples, and plain or simple similitudes, as seldom find 
place in books and writings. 

4. When an instructer in his lectures delivers any 
matter of difficulty, or expresses himself in such a man- 
ner as seems obscure, so that you do not take up his 
ideas clearly or fully, you have opportunity, at least 
when the lecture is finished, or at other proper seasons, 
to inquire how such a sentence should be understood, 
or how such adifficulty may be explained and removed. 
If there be permission given to free converse with 
the tutor, either in the midst of the lecture, or rather 
at the end of it, concerning any doubts or difficulties 
that occur to the hearer, this brings it very near to con- 
versation or discourse. 

IV. Conversation is the next method of iraprore- 
ment, and it is attended Avith the following advantages : 
1. When we converse familiarly with a learned 
friend, we have his own help at hand to explain to us 
every word and sentiment that seems obscure in his- 
discourse, and to inform us of his whole meaning, so 
that we are in much less danger of mistaking his sense : 
whereas in books, whatsoever is really obscure, may 
also abide always obscure without remedy, since the 
author is not at hand, that we may inquire his sense. 

If we mistake the meaning of our friend in conver- 
sation, Ave are cjuickly set right again ; but in read- 
ing we many times go on in the same mistake, and 
are not capable of recovering ourselves from it. — 
I Thence it comes to pass that we have so many con- 
tests in all ages about the meaning of ancient authoj-s, 
and especially the sacred writers. Happy should we 
be, could we but converse with Moses, fsaiah, and St 
Paul, and consult the prophets and apostles, wlien we 
meet with a difficult text ! But that glorious conversa- 
tion is reserved for the ages of future blessedness. 

2. When we are discoursing upon any theme with a 
f/riend, we may propose our doubts and objections 
against his sentiments, and have them solved and an- 



5a IMPROVEMENT 

swered at once. The difficulties that arise in our 
minds may be removed by one enlightening word of 
our correspondent ; whereas in reading, if a difficulty 
or question arise in our thoughts which the author has 
not happened to mention, we must be content without 
a present answer or solution of it. Books cannot speak. 

3. Not only the doubts which arise in the mind upon 
any subject of discourse are easily proposed and solved 
in conversation, but the very difficulties we meet with 
in books and in our private studies, may find a relief by 
friendly conference. We may pore upon a knotty point 
in solitary meditation many months without a solution, 
because perhaps we have gotten into a wrong tract of 
thought; and our labour (while we are pursuing a false 
scent) is not only useless and unsuccessful, but it leads 
us perhaps into a long train of error, for want of being 
corrected in the first step. But if we note down this 
difficulty when we read it, we may propose it to an 
ingenious correspondent when w^e see him ; we. may 
be relieved in a moment, and find the difficulty vanish : 
He beholds the object perhaps in a different view, sets 
it before us in quite another light, leads us at once into 
evidence and truth, and that with a delightful surprise. 

4. Conversation calls out into light what has been 
lodged in all the recesses and secret chambers of the 
soul ; by occasional hints and incidents, it brings old 
useful notions into remembrance ; it unfolds and dis- 
plays the hidden treasiures of knowledge with which 
reading, observation, and study, had before furnished 
the mind. By mutual discourse the soul is awakened 
and allured to bring forth its hoards of knowledge, and 
it learns how to render them most useful to mankind. 
A man of vast reading, without conversation, is like a 
miser who lives only to himself. 

5. In free and friendly conversation, our intellectual 
|)0w^ers are more animated, and our spirits act with a 
superior vigour in the quest and pursuit of unknown 
truths. There is a sharpness and SHgacity of thought 
that attends conversation, bej'ond w hat Ave find whilst 
we are shut up reading and musing in our retirements. 
Our souls may be serene in solitude, but not sparkling, 
though perhaps we are employed in reading the works 
of the brightest writers. Often has it'happened in free 
discourse, that new thouglits are strangely struck out. 



OF THE MIND. 37 

atid the seeds of truth sparkle and blaze through the 
company, which in calm and silent reading would never 
have been excited. By conversation you wiii both 
give and receive this benefit ; as flints when put into 
motion and striking against each other, produce living 
fire on both sides, which would never have arisen from 
the same hard materials in a state of rest. 

6. In generous conversation, arnOngst ingenious and 
learned men, we have a great advantage of proposing 
our private opinions, and of bringing our own senti- 
ments to the test, and learning in a more compendious 
and safer way what the world will judge of them, 
how mankind will receive them, what objections may 
be raised against them, what defects there are in our 
scheme, and how to correct our own mistakes ; wiiich 
advantages are not so easy to be obtained by our own 
private meditations ^ for the pleasure we take in our 
own notions, and the passion of self love, as well a? 
the narrowness of our views, tempt us to pass too 
favourable an opinion on our own schemes ; whereas 
the variety of genius in our several associates, wiii give 
happy notices aow our opinions will stand in the view 
of mankind. 

T. It is also another considerable advantage of con-* 
versation, that it furnishes the student with knowledge 
of men and the affairs of life, as reading furnishes him 
with book learning. A man who dwells all his days 
among books, may have amassed together a vast heap 
of notions, but he may be a mere scholar,which is a con- 
temptible sort of character in the world. A hennit 
who has been shut up in his cell in a collej^e,|has con- 
tracted a sort of mould and rust upon his soul, and 
all his airs of behaviour have a certain awkwardness in 
them ; but these awkward airs are worn away by de- 
grees in company ; the rust and the mould are filed and 
brushed off by polite conversation. The scholar now 
becomes a citizen or a gentleman, a neighbour and a 
friend ; he learns how to dress his sentiments in the 
.urest colours, as well as to set them in the strongest 
ight. Thus he brings out his notions with honour, he 
nakes some use of them in the world, and improves 
he theory by the practice. 

But before we proceed too far in finishing a bright 
)iarj*o^«r bv cc^vcrsatjlon, we should cofi&ider' that 



S8 IMPROVEMENT 

something else is necessary besides an acquaintance- 
with men and books, and therefore I add, 

V. Mere lectures, reading, and conversation without 
thinking, are not sufficient to make a man of know- 
ledge and wisdom. It is bur own thought and reflec- 
tion, study and meditation, must attend all the other 
methods of improvement, and perfect them. It car- 
ries these advantages with it : 

1. Though observation and instruction, reading and 
conversation, may furnish us with many ideas of men 
and things, yet it is our own meditation, and the labour 
of our own thoughts that must form our judgment of 
things. Our own thoughts should join or disjoin these 
ideas in a proposition for ourselves ; it is our own 
mind that must judge for ourselves concerning the 
agreement or disagreement of ideas, and form propo- 
sitions of truth out of them. Reading and conversation 
may acquaint us with many truths, and with many ar- 
guments to support them, but it is our own study and 
reasoning that must determine whether these proposi- 
tions are true, and whether these arguments are just 
and solid. 

It is confessed there are a thousand things which 
our eyes have not seen, and which would never come 
within the reach of our personal and immediate know- 
ledge and observation, because of the distance of times 
and places ; these must be known by consulting other 
persons, and that is done either in their writings or in 
their discourses. But after all, let this be a fixed point 
with us, that it is our own reflection and judgment 
must determine how far we should receive that which 
books or men inform us of, and how far they are worthy 
of our assent and credit. ^ 

2. It is meditation and study that transfers and con- 
veys the notions and sentiments of others to ourselves, 
so as to make them properly our own. It is our own 
judgment upon them as well as our memory of them, 
that makes them become our own property. Itdoesas 
it were concoct our intellectual food, and turns it into a 
part of ourselves; just as a man may call his limbs and 
his flesh hisown,whetherheborroAvedthe materials from 
the ox or the sheep, from the lark or the lobster ; wheth- 
er he derived it from corn or milk,the fruits of the trees^ 
or the herbs and roots of the earth ; it is all now become 



or THE MIND. 39 

one substance with himself, and he wields and manages 
those muscles and limbs for his own proj)er purposes, 
which once were the substance of other animaib or veg- 
etables ; that very substance which last w^eek was gra- 
zing in the field, or swimming in the sea, waving in the 
milk pail, or growing in the garden, is now become part 
of the man. 

3. By study and meditation we improve the hints 
that we have acquired by observation, conversation, 
and reading; we take more time in thinking, and by 
the labour of the mind we penetrate deeper into the 
themes of knowledge, and carry our thoughts some- 
times much farther on many siibjects, than M'e ever 
met with, either in the books of the dead, or discour- 
ses of the living. It is our own reasoning that draws 
out one truth from ajiother, and forms a whole scheme 
or science, from a feiv hints which we borrowed else- 
where. 

By a survey of these things,-w^ may jnstly concIude,that 
he who spends all his time iu hearing lectures, or por- 
ing upon books, without observation, riieditation,or con- 
verse, will have but a mere historical knowledge of lear- 
ning, and be able only to tell what others have known 
or: said on the subject; he that lets all his time flow 
away in conversation, without due observation, reading 
or study, will gain but a slight and superficial knowledge, 
which will be in danger of vanishing with the voice of , 
the speaker ; and he that confines himself merely to *• 
his closet, and his ov>'n narrow observation of things, 
and is taught only by his own solitary thoughts, with- 
out instruction by lectures, reading, or free conversa- 
tion, will be in danger of a narrow spirit, a vain conceit 
of himself, and an unreasonable contempt of others ; 
and after all, he will obtain a very limited and imperfect 
view and knowledge of things, and he will seldom learn 
how to make that knowledge useful. 

These five methods of improvement should, be pursu- 
ed jointly, and go hand in hand, where our circumstan- 
4:es are so happy as to find opportunity and'conveniency 
to enjoy them all ; though 1 must give my opinion that 
two of them, viz. reading and meditation,)sliouW em- 
ploy much more of our time, than pubhc lectures or 
conversation and discourse. As for observation, we 
may be always acc^uiring knowledge that way, wheth- 
er we are alone or m company. 



40 rMPROVEMENT 

But it will be for our further improvement, if we ^ 
over aii these five methods of obtaining knowledge more 
distinctly and more at large, an^d see what special ad- 
vances in useful science \\e may draw from them all. 

CHAP. III. 

Rules rekiLing to Observation. 

Jl hough observation, in the strict sense of the word, 
and as it is distinguished from meditation and study, is 
the first means of improvemerit, and in its strictest sense 
does not include in it any reasonings of the mind upon 
the tilings Avhich we observe, or inferences drawn 
from them ; yet the motions of the mind are feo exceed- 
ing swift, that it is hardly possible for a thinking man to 
gain experiences or observations, without making some 
secret and short reflections upon them ; and therefore, 
in giving a few directions concerning this method of im- 
provement, I shall not so narrowly confine myself to 
the first mere impression of objects on the mind by ob- 
servation ; but include also some hints w hich relate to 
the first, most easy, and obvious reflections or reason- 
ings which arise from them. 

I. Let the enlargement of your knowledge be one 
constant view and design in life ; since there is no time 
or place, no transactions, occurrences, or engagements 
in life, which excludes us from this method of improv- 
ing the mind. When we are alone, even in darkness 
and silence, we may converse with our own hearts, ob- 
serve the working of our own spirits, and reflect upon 
the inward motions of our own passions in some of the 
latest occurrences in lif<- : we may acquaint ourselves 
with the powers and properties, the tendencies and in- 
clinations of both body and spirit, and gain a more in- 
timate knowledge of ourselves. When we are in com- 
pany, we may discover something more of human na- 
ture, of human passions and follies, and of human af- 
fairs, vices and virtues, by conversing with mankind 
and observing their conduct. T^or is there any thing 
miore valuable than the knowledge of ourselves, and 
the knowledge of men, except it be the knowledge of 
God who made us, and our relation to him as our 
Governor. 

When we are in the house, or the city, wheresoever 



OF THE MIND. 41 

we turn our eyes, we see the works of men ; when we 
are abroad in the country, we behold more of the works 
of God. The skies and the ground, above and beneath» 
us, and the animal and vegetable world round about us, 
may entertain our observation with ten thousand varie- 
ties. 

Endeavour therefore to derive some instruction, or 
improvement of the mind from every thing which you 
see or hear, from every thing which occurs in human 
life, from every thing within you or without you. 

Fetch down some knowledge from the clouds, the' 
stars, the sun, the moon, and the revolutions of all the 
planets ; dig and draw up some valuable meditations 
from the depths of the earth, and search them through 
the vast oceans of water ; extract some intellectual 
improvements from the minerals and metals ; from the 
wonders of nature amongthe vegetables and herbs, trees 
and flowers. Learn some lessons from the birds and 
the beasts, and the meanest insects. Read the wisdom of 
God and his admirable contrivance in them all : read his 
Almighty power, his rich and various goodness, in all 
the works of his hands. 

From the day and the night, the hours and the flying 
minutes, learn a wise improvement of time, and be 
watchful to seize every opportunity to increase in know- 
ledge. 

From the vicissitudes and revolutions of nations and 
families, and from the various occurrences of the world, 
learn the instability of mortal affairs, the uncertainty of 
life, the certainty ofdeath. From a coffin and a funeral, 
learn to meditate upon your own departure. 

From the vices and follies of others, observe what is 
hateful in them ; consider how such a practice looks in 
anotherperson, and remember that it looks as ill or worse 
in yourself. From the virtue of others, learn something 
worthy of your imitation. 

From tlie deformity, the distress, or calamity of 
others, derive lessons of thankfulness to God, and hymns 
of grateful praise to your Creator, Governor, and Bene- 
factor, who has formed you in a better mould, and 
guarded you from those evils. Learn also the sacred 
lesson of contentment in your own estate, and com- 
passion to your neighbour under his miseries. 

From your natural powers, sensations, judgment, 
D2 



4-2 IMPROVEMENT 

memory, hands, feet, fcc. make this inference, that 
they Wf-re not given you for nothing, but for some use- 
ful employment to the honour of your Maker, and for 
the good of your fellow-creatures, as -well as for your 
own best interest nnd final happiness. 

From the sorrows, the pains, the sicknesses and suf- 
ferings that attend you, learn the evil of sin, and the im 
pc-. u ciion of your present state. From your own sins 
and follies, learn the patience of God toward you, and 
the practice of humility toward God and man. 

Thus from every appearance in nature, and from 
ever J occurrence in life, you may derive natural, mor- 
al, and religious observations to entertain your minds, 
as well as rules of conduct in the affairs relating to this 
life, and that which is to come. 

II. Tn order to furnish the mind with a rich variety 
of ideas, the laudable curiosity of j'oung people 
should be indulged and gratified rather than discour- 
aged. It is a very hopeful sign in young persons, to^ 
see them curious in observing, and inquisitive in search- 
ing into the greatest part of things that occur; nor 
should such an inquiring temper be frowned into silence, 
nor be rigorously restrainetl; but should rather be satis- 
fied by proper answers given to all those queries. 

For tnis reason also, where time and fortune allow it, 
young people should be led into company at proper 
seasons, should be carried abroad to see the fields and 
the woods, and the rivers, the buildings, towns, and 
cities distant from their own dwelling ; they should be 
entertain*^d with the sight of strange birds, beasts, fishes, 
insects, vegetables, and productions both of nature and 
art of every kind, Avhether they are the products of 
their own or foreign nations ; and in due time, where 
Providence gives opportunity, they may travel under 
a wise inspector or tutor to different parts of the world 
for the same end, that they may bring home treasures 
of useful knowledge. 

in. Among all these observations, write down what is 
most remarkable and uncommon ; reserve these re- 
marks in store for proper occasions, and at proper sea- 
sons take a review of them. Such a practice will give 
you a habit of useful thinking; this will secure the 
workings of your soul from running to waste, and by 
thismej^na even youjr looser moments will turn to hap- 



OF THE MIND. 49 

py account both here and hereafter. And whatever 
useful observations hare been made, let them be at 
least somejpart of the subject of your conversation a- 
mong your friends at next meeting. 

Let the circumstances or situations in life be what or 
where they will, a man should never neglect this im- 
provement which may be derived from observation. 
Let him travel into the East or West Indies, and fulfil 
the duties of the military or the mercantile life there; let 
him rove through the earth or the seas for his own hu- 
mour as a traveller, or pursue his diversions in what 
part of the world he pleases as a gentleman ; let pros- 
perous or adverse fortune call him to the most distant 
parts of the globe; still let him carry on his knowledge 
and the improvement of his soul bv wise obser- 
vations. In due time, by this means, he may render 
himself some way useful to the societies of mankind. 

Theobaldi>'o, in his younger years, visited the for- 
ests of Norway on the account of trade and timber, 
and besides his proper observations of the growth of 
trees on those northern mountains, he learned there was 
a sort of people called Fins, in those confines which 
border upon Sweden, whose habitation is in the woods ; 
and he lived afterwards to give a good account of them, 
and some of their customs, to the Royal Society, for 
the improvement of natural knowledge. Pcteoli 
was taken captive into Turkey in his youth, and travel- 
led with his master in their holy pilgrimage to Mecca, 
whereby he became more intelligent m the forms, cere- 
monies, and fooleries of the Mahometan worship, than 
perhaps, ever any Briton knew before; and by his 
manuscripts we are more acquainted in this last centu- 
ry with the Turkish sacreds than any one had ever in- 
formed us. 

IV. Let us keep our minds as free as possible from 
passions and prejudices, for these will give a wrong 
turn to our observations both on persons and things. 
The eyes of a man in the jaundice make yellow ob- 
servations on every thing ; and the soul tinctured with 
any passion or prejudice, diffuses a false colour over 
the real appearances of things, and disguises many of 
the common occurrences of life; it never beholds 
things in a true light, nor suffers them to appear as 
they are. Whensoever, therefore, you would make 
proper observations, let self, with all its influences, stand 



U IMPROVEMENT 

aside as far as possible ; abstract your own interest and 
your own concern from them, and bid all friendships 
and enmities stand aloofand keep out ofthe way,inthe 
observations that you make relating to persons and 
things. ^ 

If this rule were well obeyed, we should be much 
better guarded against those common pieces of miscon- 
duct in the observations of men, viz. the false judgments 
of pride and envy. How ready is envy to mingle with 
the notices which we take of other persons ? How 
y often is mankind prone to put an ill sense upon the 
'^ actions of their neighbours, to take a survey of them 
in an evil position and in an unhappy light ? And by 
this means Ave form a worse opinion of our neighbours 
than they deserve ; while at the same time pride and 
self flattery tempt us to make unjust observations on 
ourselves m our own favour. In all the favourable 
judgments we pass concerning ourselves, we should 
allow a Ihtle abatement on this account. 

V. In making your observations on persons, take 
care of indulging that busy curiosity which is ever in- 
quiring into private and domestic affairs, with an end- 
less itch of learning the secret history of families. It 
is but seldom that such a prying curiosity attains any 
valuable ends : it often begets suspicions, jealousies, 
and disturbances in households, and it is a frequent 
temptation to persons to defame their neighbours. 
Some persons cannot help telling what they know; 
a busy body is most liable to become a tattler upon 
every occasion. 

VI. Let your observations, even of persons and their 
conduct, be chiefly designed in order to lead you to a 
better acquaintance with things, particularly with hu- 
man nature ; — and to inform you what to imitate and 
what to avoid, rather than to furnish out matter for the 
evil passions of the mind, or the impertinencies of dis- 
course, and reproaches of the tongue. 

VII. Though it may be proper sometimes to make 
your observations concerning persons as well as things, 
the subject of your discourse in learned or useful con- 
versation ; yet what remarks you make on particular 
persons, especially to their disadvantage, should for 
the most part lie hid in your own breast, till some just 
and apparent occasion, some necessary call t>f Provi- 
dence, leads yQU to speak to them. 



UF THE iVllISD. 45 

If the character or conduct which you observe be 
greatly culpable, it should so much the less be published. 
You may treasure up such remarks of the follies, in- 
decencies, or vices of your neighbours, as may be a 
constant guard against your practice of the same, 
without exposing the reputation of your neighbour on 
that account. It is a good old rule, that our conver- 
sation sbould rather be laid out on things than on per- 
sons ; and this rule should generally be observed, un- 
less names be concealed, wheresoever the faults or fol- 
lies of mankind are our present them«. 

Our late Archbishop Tillotson has written a smafl, 
btjt excellent discourse on evil speaking, wherein he 
admirably explains, limits, and applies that general 
apostolic precept. Speak evil of no man. Titus hi. 2. 

VHI. Be not too hasty to erect general theories from 
a few particular observations, appearances, or experi- 
jnents. This is what the logicians call a false induction. 
When general observations are drawn from so many 
particulars as to become certain and indubitable, these 
<irejewels of knowledge, comprehending great treasure 
in a little room, but they are tnerefore to be made witli 
the greater care'and caution,lest errors become large and 
diffusive, if we should mistake in these general notions. 

A hasty determinjation of some universal principles, 
without a due survey of all the particular cases which 
maybe included in them, is the way to lay a trap for 
our own understandings in their pursuit of any s^ect, 
and we shall often be taken captives into mistakfe and 
falsehood. Niveo in his youth observed, that on three 
Christmas days together there fell a good quantity of 
snow, and now hath writ it down in his Almanack as a 
part of his wise remarks on the weather, that it will 
always snow at Christmas. Euron, a young lad, took 
notice ten times, that there was a sharp frost when the 
wind was in the north east, therefore in the middle of 
last July, he almost expected it should freeze, because 
the weathercocks showed him a north east wind ; and 
he was still more disappointed when he found it a very 
sultry season. It is the same hasty judgment that hath 
thrown scandal on a whole nation for the sake of some 
culpable characters belonging to several particular na- 
tives of that country ; whereas all the Frenchmen are 
not gay and airy ; all the Italians arenot jealous and re- 
vengeful ; nor are all the English overrun with the spleen . 



4% IMPROVEMENI^ 

CHAP. IV. 

Of Books and Reading. 

1. J. HE world is full of books, but there are multi-, 
tudes which are so ill written, they were never worth 
anj" man's reading ; and there are thousands more 
which may be good in their kind, yet are worth nothing 
when the month or year or occasion is past for which they 
were written. Others may be valuable in themselves, 
for some special purpose, or in some peculiar science, 
but are not fit to be perused by any but those who are 
engaged in that particular science or business. To what 
use is it for a divine, or physician, or^a tradesman, to 
read Over the huge volumes of reports of judged cases 
in the law ? Or for a lawyer to learn Hebrew and read 
the Rabbins ? It is of vast advantage for improvement 
of knowledge and saving time, for a young man to 
have the most proper books for his reading recom- 
mended by a judicious friend. 

II. Books of importance of any kind, and especially 
complete treatises on any subject, should be first read 
in a more general and cursory manner, to learn a little 
what the treatise promises, and what you may ex- 
pect from the writer's manner and skill. And for this 
end I would advise always that the preface be read and 
a survey taken of the table of contents, if there be one, 
before the first survey of the book. By this means 
you will not only be better fitted to give the book the 
first reading, but j'ou will be much assisted in your 
second perusal of it, which should be done with great- 
er attention and deliberation, and you will learn with 
more ease and readiness what the author pretends to 
teach. In your reading, mark what is new or unknown 
to you before, and review those chapters, pages, or 
paragraphs. Unless a reader has an uncommon and 
most retentive memory, I may venture to affirm, that 
there is scarce any book or chapter worth reading once, 
that is not worthy of a second perusal. At least to 
take a careful review of all the lines or paragraphs 
w^hich you marked, and make a recollection of the 
sections which you thought truly valuable. 

There is another reason also why I would choose to 
take a superficial and cursory survey of a book, before 



OF THE MIND. 41 

i sit down to read it, and dwell upon it with studious 
attention ; and that is, there may he several difficulties 
in it, which we cannot easily understand and conquer 
at the first reading, for want of a fuller comprehension 
of the author's whole scheme. And therefore, in such 
treatises, we should not stay till we master every diffi- 
culty at the first perusal ; for perhaps many of these 
would appear to be solved when we have proceeded 
further in that book, or would vanish of themselves 
upon a second reading. 

What we cannot reach and penetrate at first, may 
be noted down as matter of after consideration and in- 
quiry, if the pages that follow do not happen to strike 
a complete light on those which went before. 

III. If three or four persons agree to read the same 
book, and each bring his own remarks upon it at some 
set hours appointed for conversation, and they commu- 
nicate mutually their sentiments on the subject, and 
debate about it in a friendly manner, this practice will 
render the reading any author more abundantly bene- 
ficial to every one of tiiem. 

IV. If several persons engaged in the same study, 
take into their hands distinct treatises on one subject, 
and appoint a season of communication once a week, 
they may inform each other in a brief manner concern- 
ing the sense, sentiments, and method of those several 
authors, and thereby promote each other's improve- 
ment, either by recommending the perusal of the 
same book to their companions, or perhaps hj satisfy- 
ing their inquiries concerning it by conversation, with- 
out every one's perusing it. 

V. Remember that your business in reading or in 
conversation, especially on subjects of natural, moral, 
or divine science, is not merely to know the opinion of 
the author or speaker, for this is the mere knowledge 
of history ; but ;^our chief business is to consider 
whether their opinions are right or no, and to improve 
jrour own solid knowledge on that subject by medita- 
tion on the themes of their writings or discourse. 
Deal freely with every author you read, and yield up 
your assent only to evidence and just reasoning on the 
subject. 

Here I would be understood to speak only of human 
authors, and not of the sacred and inspired writings. 



4? IMPROVEMENT 

In these our business is only to find out the true sense, 
and understand the true meaning of the paragraph and' 
page, and our assent then is bound to follow when we 
are before satisfied that the writing is divine. Yet I 
might add also that even this is sufficient evidence to 
demand our assent. 

But in the composures of men remember you are a 
man as well as they ; and it is not their reason but your |^ 
own that is given to guide you Avhen you arrive at 
years of discretion, of manly age and judgment. 

VI. Let this therefore be your practice, especially 
after you have ^one through one course of any science 
in your academical studies ; if a writer on that subject 
maintains the same sentiments as you do, yet if" he 
does not explain his ideas or prove the positions well, 
mark the faults or defects, and endeavour to do it bet- 
ter, either in the margin of your book, or rather in 
some papers of your own, or at least let it be done in 
your private meditations. — As for instance : 

Where the author is obscure, enlighten him; where 
he is imperfect, supply his deficiencies ; where he is too 
brief and concise, amplify a little, and set his notions 
in a fairer view" ; where he is redundant, mark those 
paragraphs to be retrenched ; when he trifles and grows 
impertinent, abandon those passages or pages ; where 
lie argues, observe whether his reasons be conclusive ; 
if the conclusion be true, and yet the argument weak, 
endeavour to confirm it by better proofs ; where he de- 
rives or infers any propositions darkly or doubtfully, 
make the justice of the inference appear, and add further 
inferences or corollaries, if such occur to your mind ; 
ivhere you suppose he is in a mistake, propose your 
objections and correct his sentiments ; what he writes 
so well as to approve itself to your judgment, both as 
just and useful, treasure it up in your memory, and 
count it a part of your intellectual gains. 

Note. — Many of these same directions which I have 
now given may be practised with regard to conversation, 
as well as reading, in order to render it useful in the 
most extensive and lasting manner. 

Vil. Other things also of the like nature, may be 
usefully practised with regard to the authors which you 
read, viz. If the method of a book be irregular, re- 
duce it into form by a little ^alysis of your own, or 



OF THE MIND. 4» 

by hints in the margin ; if those things are heaped to- 
gether which should be separated, you may wisely 
distinguish and divide them ; if several things relating 
to the same subject are scattered up and down sepa- 
rately through the treatise, you may bring them all to 
one view by references ; or if the matter of a book be 
really valuable and deserving, you may throw it into a 
better method, reduce it to a more logical scheme, or 
abridge it into a lesser form ; all these practices will 
iiave a tendency to advance your skill both in logic 
and method, to improve your judgment in_ general, 
and to give you a fuller survey of that subject in parLic- 
iilar. When you have finished the treatise with pll 
your observations upon it, recollect and determine 
what real improvements you Have made by reading 
that author. 

VIII. If a book has no index to it, or good table of 
contents, it is very useful to make one as you are read- 
ing it ; not with that exactness as to include the 
sense of every page and paragraph, which should be 
done if you designed to print it; but it is sufficient in 
your index to take notice only of those parts of the 
book which are new to you, or which you think well 
Avritten, and worthy of your remembr.ince or review. 

Shall I be so free as to assure you my younger friends, 
from my own experience, that these methods of read- 
ing will cost some pains in the first years of your study, 
and especially in the first authors which you peruse in 
any science, or on any particular subject; but the profit 
will richly compensate the pains. And in the following 
years of life, after you have read a few valuable books 
on any special subject in this manner, it will be very 
easy to read others of the same kind, because you will 
not usually find very much new matter in them wrhick 
you have not already examined. 

IX. If the writer be remarkable for any peculiar ex- 
cellencies or defects in his style or manner of writing, 
makejust observations upon this also ; and whatsoever 
ornaments you find there, or whatsoever blemishes oc- 
cur in the language or manner of the writer, you may 
makejust remarks upon them. And remember, that 
one book read over in this mannei-, with all this labori- 
> "s meditation, will tend more to eurich yourtmder- 



50 IMPROVEMENT 

standing than the skimming over the surface of twenty 
authors. 

X. By perusing books in the manner I have descri- 
bed, you will make all j^our reading subservient, not only 
to the enlargement of your treasures of knowledge, 
but also to the improvement of your reasoning powers. 

There are many who read with constancy and dili- 
gence, and yet make no advances in true knowled^^e 
by it. They are delighted with the notions which 
they read or hear, as they would be with stories that 
ai-e told, but they do not weigh them in their minds as 
in a just balance, in order to determine their truth or 
falsehood ; they make no observations upon them, or 
inferences from them. Perhaps their eye slides over 
the pages, or the words slide over their ears, and vanish! 
like a rhapsody of evening tales, or the shadoAvs of a 
cloud flying over a green field in a summer's day. 

Or if they review them sufficiently, to fix them in 
their remembrance, it is merely with the design to tell 
the tale over again, and show what men of learning 
they are. Thus they dream out their days in a course 
of reading vvithout real advantage. As a man may be 
eating all day, and for want of digestion is never nour- 
ished; so these endless readers may cram themselves 
in vain with intellectual food, and without real improve- 
ment of their minds, for want of digesting it by proper 
reflections. 

XI. Be diligent therefore in observing these direc- 
tions : Enter into the sense and arguments of the au- 
thors j'^ou read, examine all their proofs, and then judge 
of the truth or falsehood of their opinions ; and there- 
by you shall not only gain a rich increase of your un- 
derstanding, by those truths which the author teaches, 
when you see them well supported, but you shall ac- 
<}uire also by degrees, an habit of judging justly, and 
of reasoning well, in imitation of the good writer 
whose works you peruse. 

This is laborious indeed, and the mind is backnvard 
to undergo the fatigue of weighing every argument aiad 
tracing every thing to its original. It is much less la- 
bour to take all things upon trust; believing is much 

easier than arguing. But when Studentio had once per- 
suaded his mind to tie itself down ta this method AvhicU 



OF THE MIND. 51 

I have prescribed, he sensibly gained an admirable fa- 
cility to read, and judge of what be read, by his daily 
practice of it, and the man made lar^e advances in the 
pursuit of truth ; while Plumbinus and Plumeo made 
less progress in knowledge, though they had read over 
more folios. Plumeo skimmed over the pages like a 
swallow over the flowery meads in May. Plumbinus 
read every line and syllable, but did not give himself 
the trouble of thinking and judging about them. They 
both could boast in company of their great reading, for 
they knew more titles and pages than Student!^, but 
were far less acquainted with science. 

I confess those whose reading is designed only to fit 
them for much talk and little knowledge, may content 
themselves to run over their authors in such a sudden 
and trifling way ; they may devour libraries in this 
manner, yet be poor reasoners at last,and have no solid 
wisdom or true learning. The traveller who walks on 
fair and softly in a course that points right, and exam- 
ines every turning before he ventures . upon it ; will 
come sooner and safer to his journey's end, than he 
who runs through every lane he meets, though he gal- 
lops full speed all the day. The man of much reading 
and a large retentive memory, but without meditation, 
may become in the sense of the world a knowing man ;. 
and if he converses much with the ancients, he may 
attain the.fame of learning too ; but he spends his days 
afar off" from wisdom and true judgment, and possess- 
es very little of the substantial riches of the mind. 

XII. Never apply yourselvesrto read any human au- 
thor with a determination beforehand either for or 
against him, or with a settled resolution to believe or dis- 
believe, to confirm or to oppose whatsoever he saith ; 
but always read with a design to lay your mind open 
to truth, and to embrace it wheresoever you find it, as 
well as to reject every falsehood, though it appear un- 
der ever so fair a disguise. How unhappy are those 
men who seldom take an author into their hands but 
they have determined before they begin wii ether they 
will like or dislike him ! They have got some notion of 
his name, his character, his party, or his principles, by gen- 
eral conversation, or perhaps by some slight view of a 
few pages; andhaving all their own opinionsadjusted be- 
forehand, they read all that he writes with a preposses* 



5£ IMPROVEMENT 

fiion either for or against liim. Unhappy those who hunt 
and purvey for a party, and scrape togetiier out of 
every author, all those thin^?, and those only, which 
favour their own tenets, while they despise and neglect 
all the rest. 

XIII. Yet tiike this caution. I would not be under- 
stood here as though I persuaded a person to live with- 
out any settled principles at all, by which to judge of 
men, and books, and things ; or tliat I would keep a 
man always doubting about his foundations. The chief 
things tliat I design in this advice are these three : 

1. That after our most necessary and important 
principles of science, prudence, and religion, are set- 
tled upon good grounds, with regard to our present 
*'onduct and our future hopes, we should read witha^iust 
freedom of thought all those books which treat of such 
subjects as may admit of doubt and reasonable dis- 
pute. Nor should any of our opinions be so resolved 
upon, especially in younger years, as never to hear or 
bear an opposition to them. 

2. When we peruse those authors who defend our 
own settled sentiments, we should not take all their ar- 
guings for just and solid; but we should make a wise 
distinction between the corn and the chaff,between solid 
reasoning and the mere superficial colours of it ; nor 
should we readily swallow down all their lesser opin- 
ions, because we agree with them in the greater. 

3. That when we read those authors which oppose 
our most certain and established principles, we should 
be ready to reccrv^e any information from them in other 
points, and not abandon at once every thing they say, 
though w^e are well fixed in our opposition to their 
main point of arguing. 

Fas est, ct ab hosle doceri Vme. 



Seize upon truth where'er 'tis found, 

Amongst your friends, amongst yourfae% 

On Chrislian or on Healhen ground ; 
The flowers divhie where'er it grows : 
Neglect the prickles, and assume the rose. 

XIV. What I have said hitherto on this subject re- 
lating to books and reading, must be chiefly understood 
of that sort of books, and those hours of our reading 



OF THE MIND. 5& 

and study, whereby we design to improve the intellect- 
ual powers of the mind with natural, moral, or divine 
knowledge. As for those treatises which are written 
to direct or to enforce and persuade our practice, there 
is one thing further necessary ; and that is, that when 
Our consciences are convinced that these rules of pru- 
dence or duty belong to us, and require our conformity 
to them, we should then call ourselves to account, and 
inquire seriously whether we have put them in prac- 
tice or no ; we should dwell upon the arguments, and 
impress the motives and methods of persuasion upon 
our own hearts, till we feel the force and power of them 
inclining us to the practice of the things which are 
there recommended. 

If folly or vice be represented in its open colours, or 
its secret disguises, let us search our hearts, and review 
our lives, and inquire how far we are criminal : Nor 
should we ever think we have done with the treatise 
till we feel ourselves in sorrow for our past misconduct, 
and aspiring after a victory over those vices, or till we 
find a cure of those follies begun to be wrought upon 
our souls. 

In all our studies and pursuits of knowledge, let us 
remember that virtue and vice, sin and holiness, and 
the confirmation of our hearta and lives to the duties 
of true religion and morality, are things of far more 
consequence than all the furniture of aur understanding, 
and the richest treasures of mere speculative know- 
ledge ; and that because they have a more immediate 
and effectual influence upon our eternal felicity or eter- 
nal sorrow. 

XV. There is yet another sort of books, of which it 
improper 1 should say something while I am treating 
on this subject ; and these are, history, poesy, travels, 
books of diversion or amusement; among which we 
may reckon also, little common pamphlets, newspapers, 
or such like ; for many of these I confess once read- 
ing may be sufiicient, where there is a tolerable good 
memory. 

Or when several persons are in company, and one 

reads to the rest such sort of writings, once hearing may 

be sufficient, provided that every one be so attentive, 

and so free, as to make their occasional remarks on 

E 2 



;74 IMPROVEMENT 

such lines or sentences, such periods or paraj^raphs, as 
in their opinion deserve it. Now all those paragraphs 
or sentiments deserve a remark, Avhich are new and 
uncommon, are noble and excellent for the matter of 
them, are sticjng and convincing for the argument con- 
tained in thenn, are Beautiful and elegant for the lan- 
guage or the manner, or any way worthy of a second 
ehearsal ; and at the'requcst of any of the company, 
let those paragraphs be read over again. 

Such parts also of these writings as may happen to 
be remarkably stupid and silly, false or mistaken, should 
become subjects of an occasional criticism, made by 
some of the comftany ; and this may give occasion to 
the repetition of them for the confirmation of the 
ceniure, for amusement or diversion. 

Still let it be remembered, that where the historical 
narration is of considerable moment, where the poesy, 
oratory, fee. shines with some degree of perfection 
and glory, a single reading is neither sufficient to satis- 
fy a mind that has a true taste for this sort of writings, 
nor can we make the fullest and best improvement of 
them without proper reviews, and that in our retire- 
ment as Avell as in company. Who is there that has 
any gout for polite writings, that would be sufficiently 
satisfied with hearing the beautiful pages of Steel or 
Addison, the admiraf)le description of Virgil or Mil- 
ton, or some of the finest poems of Pope, Young, or 
Dryden, once read over to them, and then lay them by 
for ever ? 

XVI. Among these writings of the latter kind, we 
may justly reckon short miscellaneous essays on all 
manner of subjects; such as the Occasional Papers, 
the Tatlers, the Spectators, and some other books that 
have been compiled eut of the weekly and daily products 
of the press, wherein are contained a great number of 
bright thoughts, ingenious remarks, and admirable 
observations, which have had a considerable share in 
furnishing the present age with knowledge and polite- 
ness. 

I wish every paper among these writings could have 
been recommended both as innocent and useful. I 
■wish every unseemly idea, and wanton expression had 
been banished from amongst them, and every trifling 
page had been excluded from the company of the rest 



OF THE MIND. 55 

when they had been bound up in vohjmes. But it is not 
to be expected, in so imperfect a state, that every page 
or peice of such mixed public papers should be entirely 
blameless and laudable. Yet m the main it must be 
confessed, there is so much virtue, prudence, ingenuity, 
and goodness in them, especially in eight volumes of 
Spectators, there is such a reverence of things^ sacred, 
so many valuable remarks for our conduct in life, that 
they are not improper to lie in parlours, or summer 
houses, or places of usual residence, to entertain our 
thoughts in any moment of leisure, or vacjant hours 
that occur. There is such a discovery of the follies, 
iniquities, and fashionable vices of mankind contained 
in them, that we may learn much of the humours and 
madnesses of the age, and the public world, in our own 
solitary retirement, without the danger of frequenting 
vicious company, or receiving the mortal infection. 

XVII. Among other books %vhich are proper and 
requisite, in order to improve our knowledge in general, 
iOr our acquaintance with any particular science, it is 
necessary that we should be furnished with Vocabula- 
ries and Dictionaries of several sorts, viz. of cx)mmon 
words, idioms, and phrases, in order to explain their 
sense; of technical'words orthe terms of art, to show 
their use in arts and sciences ; of names of men, coun- 
tries, towns, rivers, fcc. which are called historical 
and geographical dictionaries, &c. These are to be con- 
sulted and used upon every occasion ; and never let an 
unknown word pass in your reading, without seeking 
for its sense and meanmg in some of these writers. 

If such books ar€ not at hand, you must supply the 
want of them, as well as you can, by consulting such as 
can inform you ; and it is useful to note down the mat- 
ters of doubt and inquiry in some pocket book, and take 
the first opportunity to get them resolved, either by 
persons or books, when we meet with them. 

XVIII. Be not satisfied with a mere knowledge of 
the best authors that treat of any subject, instead of 
acquainting yourselves thoroughly with the subject 
itself. There is many a young student that is fond of 
.enlarging his knowledge of books, and he contents 
himself with the notice he has of their title page, which 
is the attainment of a bookseller rather than a scholar. 
Such persons are under a great temptation to practice 



&6 IMPROVEMENT 

these two follies. (1.) To heap up a great num'ber of 
books, at greater expense than most of them can bear, 
and to furnish their libraries infinitely better than their 
understandings. And (2.)when they have gotten such 
rich treasures of knowledge upon their shelves, they 
imagine themselves men of learning, and take a pride 
in taking of the names of famous authors, and the sub- 
jects of which they treat, without any real improvement 
of their own minds in true science or wisdom. At best 
their learning reaches no farther than the indexes and 
tables of contents, while they know not how to judge 
or reason concerning the matters contained in those 
authors. 

And indeed how many volumes of learning soever a 
man possesses, he is still deplorably poor in his under- 
standing, till he has made those several parts of learn- 
ing his own property, by -reading and reasoning, by 
judging for himself, and remembering what he has 



CHAP. V. 

Judgment of Books^ 

I. If we would form a judgment of a book which 
we have not seen before, the first thing that offers is 
the title page, and we may sometimes guess a little at 
the import and design of a book thereby ; though it 
must be confessed that titles are often deceitful, and 
promise more than the book performs. The author's 
name, if it be known in the world, may help us to con- 
jecture at the performance a little more, and lead us to 
guess in what manner it is done. A perusal of the 
preface or introduction (which I before recommended) 
may further assist our judgment ; and if there be an 
index of the contents, it will give us still some advan- 
cing light. 

If we have not leisure or inclinatioq to read over the 
book itself regularly, then by the titles of chapters we 
may be directed to peruse several particular chapters 
or sections, and observe whether there be any thing val- 
uable or important in| them. We shall find theieby, 
whether the author explains his ideas clearly, whether 
he reasons strongly, whether he raethodizps w^ell, 



OP THE MIND. 57 

ivUether his thoughts and sense be manly, and his man- 
ner polite ; or, on the other hand, whether he be obscure, 
weak, trifling and confused ; or Anally, whether the mat- 
ter may not be solid and substantial, though the style 
and manner be rude and disagreeable. 

II. By having mn through several chapters and sec- 
tions in this manner, we may generally judge whether 
the treatise be worth a complete perusal or no. But 
if by such an occasional survey of some chapters, our 
expectation be utterly discouraged, w^e may well lay 
aside that book ; for there is great probability he can 
be but an indifferent writer on that subject, if he affords 
but one prize to diverse blanks, and it ma}'^ be some 
downright blots too. The piece can hardly be valuable, 
if, in seven or eight chapters which we peruse, there 
be but little truth, evidence, force of reasoning, beauty, 
and ingenuity of thought, fee. mingled with much er- 
ror, ignorance, impertinence, dulness, mean and com- 
mon thoughts, inaccuracy, sophistry, railing, fcc. Life 
is too short, and time is too precious, to read every 
new book quite over, in order to find that it is not worth 
reading. 

III. There are some general mistakes which persons 
are frequently guilty of in passing a judgment on the 
books which they read. 

One is this ; when a treatise is written but tolerably 
well, we are ready to pass a favourable judgment of it, 
and sometimes to exalt its character far beyond its 
merit, if it agree with our own principles, and support 
the opinions of our party. On the other hand, if the 
author be of different sentiments, and espouse contrary 
principlciS, we can find neither wit nor reason, good 
sense or good language in it. Whereas, alas ! if our 
opinions of things were certain and infallible truth, yet 
a silly author may draw his pen in the defence of them, 
and he may attack even gross errors with feeble and 
ridiculous arguments. Truth in this world is not al- 
ways attended and supported by the wisest and safest 
methods ; and error, though it never can be maintained 
by just reasoning, yet maybe artfully covered and de- 
fended; an ingenious writer may put excellent colours 
upon his own mistakes. Some Socinians who deny the 
atonement of Christ, have written well, and with much 
appearance of argument for their own unscriptural sen- 



58 IMPROVEMENT 

timents, and some writers for the Trinity and satisfnc- 
tion of Christ, have exposied themselves and the sacred 
doctrine, by their feeble and foolish manner of hand- 
liisg it. Books are never t^ be judged of merely by 
their subject, or the opinion they represent, but by the 
justness of their sentiments, the beautj' of their man- 
ner, the force of their expression ; or the strength of 
reason, and the ^veight of just and proper argument 
which appears in them. 

But this folly and weakness of trifling instead of ar";u- 
ing does not happen to fall only to the share of Christian 
writers ; there are some who liave taken the pen in hand 
to support the deistical or antichristian scheme of our 
days, who make big pretences to reason upon all occa- 
sions, but seem to nave left it all behind them when 
they are jesting with the Bible, and grinning at the 
books which we call sacred. Some of these perform- 
ances would -scarce have been thought tolerable if they 
had not ;issaulted the Christian faith, though they are 
now grown up to a place among the admired pens. I 
much question whether several of the rhapsodies called 
the Characteristics, would ever have survived the first 
edition, if thoy had not discovered so strong a tincture 
of infidelity, and now and then cast out a profane sneer 
at our holy religion, i have sometimes indeed been ready 
to wonder how a book in the main so loosely written, 
should ever obtain so many readers among men of sense. 
Surely they must be conscious in the perusal, that 
sometimes a patrician may v/rite as idle as a man of 
plebian rank, and trifle as much as an old schoolman, 
though it is in another form. I am forced to say, there 
are few books that ever I read, which made any pre- 
tences to a g/eat genius, from which 1 derived so little 
valuable knowledge as from these treatises. There is 
indeed amongst them a Mvely pertness, a parade of 
literature, and much of v.hat son.e folks nowadays call 
politeness, but it is hard that we should be bound tp 
admire all the reveriei of this author, under the penal- 
ty of being unfashionable. 

IV. Another mi^^take which some persons fall into is 
this : When they read a freatise on a subject with which 
they have but little acquaintance, they find almost every 
thing new and strange to them, their understandings are 
greatly entertained and improved by the occurence of 



OF THE MIND. 59 

many things which were unknown to them before, 
they admire the treatise, and commend the author at 
once ; whereas if they had b\it attained a good degree 
ofskiliinthat science, perhaps they would find that 
tlie author had written very poorly, that neither his 
sense or his method was just and proper, and that he 
had nothing in him hut what was very common or 
trivial in his discourses on that subject. 

Hence it comes to pass that Cario and Faber, who 
were both bred up to labour, and unacquainted with 
the sciences, shall admire one of the weekly papers, or 
a little pamphlet, that talks pertly on some critical or 
learned theme, because the matter is all strange and 
new to them, and they join to extol the writer to the 
skies ; and for the same reason a young academic shall 
dwell upon a Journal or an Observator that treats of 
trade and politics in a dictatorial style, and shall be \/ 
lavish in the praise of the author ; while at the samd 
time persons well skilled in those diiTerent subjects 
hear the impertinent tattle with a just contempt; for 
they know hoAv weak and awkward many of those lit- 
tle diminutive discourses are ; and that those very 
papers of science, politics or trade, w hich were so 
much admired by the ignorant, are perhaps but very 
mean ji^formances ; though it must be also confessed 
there are some excellent essays in those papers, and 
that upon science as well as trade. 

V. But there is a danger of mistake in our judgment 
of books on the other hand also ; for when we have 
made ourselves masters of any particular theme of 
knowledge, and surveyed it long on all sides, there is 
perhaps scarce any writer on that subject who much 
c'utertains and pleases us afterwards, because we find 
little or nothing new in him; and yet in a true judg- 
ment perhaps his sentiments are most proper and just, 
his explication clear, and his reasonings strong, and all 
the parts of the discourse are well connected and set 
in a happy light ; but we knew most of those thin.^s 
before, and therefore they strike us not, and we are m 
danger of discommending them. 

Thus the learned and the unlearned have their seve- 
ral distinct dangers and prejudices ready to attend them 
in tiicir judgment of the writings of men. These 



m IMPROVEMENT 

which I have mentioned are a specimen of them, and 
indeed but a mere specimen ; for the prejudices that 
warp our judgment aside iVom trutii are ahnost infinite 
and endless. 

YI. Yet 1 cannot forbear to point out two or three 
more of these follies, that I may attempt something to- 
wards the correction of them, or at least to guard 
others against them. 

There are some persons of a forward and lively tem- 
per, and who are fond to intermeddle with all appear- 
ances of knowledge, will give their judgment on a book 
as soon as the title of it is mentioned, for they would 
not willingly seem ignorant of any thing that others 
know. And especially if they happen to have any 
superior character or possessions of this world, they 
fancy they have a right to talk freely upon every thing 
that stirs or.appears, though they have no other pretence 
to this freedom. Divito is worth forty thousand 
pounds: Pelitulus is a fine young gentleman, who 
sparkles in all the shining things of dress andequipage: 
Aulinus is a small attendant on a minister of state, and 
is at court almost every day. These three happened to 
mp.et in a visit, where an excellent book of warm and 
refined devotions lay in the window : What dull stuff 
is here ? said Divito ; I never read so much nonsense 
11 one page in my life, nor would I give a shilling for a 
thousand such treatises. Aulinus, though a courtier, 
and not used to speak roughly, yet would not allow 
tliere was a line of good sense in the book, and pro- 
nounced him a madman that wrote it in his secret re- 
tirement, and declared him a fool that published it after 
his death. Politulus had more manners than t.i> differ 
from men of such rank and character, and therefore he 
sneered at the devout expressions as he heard theni 
read, and made the divine treatise a matter of scorn 
and ridicule ; and yet it was well known that neither 
this fine gentleman, nor the courtier, nor the man of 
wealth, had a grain of devotion in them beyond their 
horses that waited at their door with their gilded chari- 
ots. But this is the way of the world ; blind men will 
talk of the beauty of colours, and of the harmony or 
disproportion of figures in painting ; the deaf will prate 
of discords in music ; and those who have nothing to 
do with religion will arraign the best treatise on divine 



OF THE MIND. gl 

subjects, though they do not understand the very lan- 
guage of the scripture, nor the common terms or phra- 
ses used in Christianity. 

VII. I might here name another; s«rt of judges, 
who will set themselves up to decide in favour of an 
author, or will pronounce him a mere blunderer, accor- 
ding to the company they have kept, and the judgment 
they have heard passed upon a book by others of their 
own stamp or size, though they have no knowledge or 
taste of the subject themselves. These with a fluent 
and voluble tongue become mere echoes of the prai 
ses or censures of other men. Sonillus happened 
to be in the room where the three gentlemen just men- 
tioned gave out their thoughts so freely upon an ad- 
mirable book of devotion ; and two days afterwards he 
met with some friends of his where this book was the 
subject of conversation and praise. Sonillus wondered 
at their dulness , and repeated the jests which he had 
heard cast upon the weakness of the author.. His 
knowledge of the book and his decision upon it was 
all from hearsay, for he had never seen it, and if he had 
read it through he had no manner of right to judge 
about the things of religion, having no more knovvledge 
or taste of any thin^; of inward piety, than a hedgehog 
or a it)ear has of politeness. 

When I had written these remarks, Probus, who 
knew all the four gentlemen, wished they might have 
an opportunity to read their own character as it is 
represented here. Alas ! Probus, I fear it would do 
them very_ little good, though it may guard others 
against their folly, for there is never a one of them would 
find theirown name in these characters if they read them, 
though all their acquaintance would acknowledge the 
features immediately, and see the persons almost alive 
in the picture. 

VIII. There is yet another mischievous principle 
which prevails among some persons in passing a judg- 
ment on the writings of others, and that is, when from 
the secret stimulations of vanity, pride or envy, they 
despise a valuable book, and throw contempt upon it 
by wholesale ; and if you ask them the reason of their 
severe censure, they will tell you perhaps that they 
have found a mistake or two in it, or there are a few 
sentiments or expressions not suited to their tooth ai?d 

F 



62 IMPROVEMENT 

humour. Bavius cries down an admirable treatise of. 
philosophy, and says there is Atheism in it, because 
there are a few sentences that seem to suppose brutes 
to be mere machines. Under the same influence, Mo- 
mus will not allow Paradise Lost to be a good poenij 
because lie had read some flat and heavy lines in it, and 
he thought Milton had too much honour done him. It 
is a paltry humour that inclines a man to rail at any 
human performance because it is notabsolutelyperfect. 
Horace would give us a better example. 

Sunt delida quihus nos ignovisse relimus^, 

Nam neque chorda sonum reddit quam vult manus et mens, 

JVec semper feriet quodcunque minabitur arcus : 

Atque ubiplura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis 

Offendar inaculis, quas aut incuriafudit, 

Aut humana p arum cavil naiur a Hor. de. Art Poet. 

THUS ENGLISHED. 

Be not too rigidly censorious ; 

A string may jar in the best master's hand, 

And the most skilful archer miss his aim ; 

So in a poem elegantly writ 

1 will not quarrel with a small mistake, 

Such as our nature's frailty may excuse.... i?oscom?won. 

This noble translator of Horace, -whom 1 here cite, 
has a very honourable opinion of Homer in the main, 
yet he allows him to be justly censured for some gross- 
er spots and blemishes in him. 

For who without aversion ever look'd 
On holy garbage, though by Homer cook'd 
Whose railing heroes and whose wounded gods 
Make some suspects he snores as well as nods. 

Such wise and just distinctions ought to be made 
when we pass a judgment on mortal things, but envy 
condemns by wholesale. Envy is a cursed plant; 
some fibres of it are rooted almost in every man's na- 
ture, and it works in a sly and imperceptible manner, 
and that even in some persons who in the main are 
men of wisdom and piety. They know not how to 
bear the praises that are given to an ingenious author, 
especially if he be living and of their profession, and 
therefore they will, if possible, find some blemish in 
his writings, that they may nibble and bark at it. Ther 



OF THE MIND. 03 

will endeavour to diminish the honour of the hest trea- 
tise that has been written on any subject, ana to render 
it useless by their censures, rather than suiier their envy 
to lie asleep, and the little mistakes of that author to 
pass unexposed. Perhaps the^ will commend the Avork 
fn general with a pretended air of candour, but pass 
so many sly and invidious remarks upon it afterwards, 
as shall effectually destroy all their cold and formal 
praises.* 

IX. When a person feels g.ny thing of this invidious 
humour working in him, he may by the following con- 
siderations attempt the correction of it. Let him think 
with himself how many are the beauties of such an 
author whom he censures in comparison of his blem- 
ishes, and remember that it is a much more honourable 
and good natured thing to find out peculiar beauties 
than faults : True and undisguised candour is a much 
more amiable and divine talent than accusation. Let 
him reflect again, what an easy matter it is to find a 
mistake in all.human authors, who are necessarily falli- 
ble and imperfect. 

I confess where an author sets himself up to ridicule 
divine writers and things sacred, and yet assumes an 
air of sovereignty and dictatorship, to exalt and al- 
most deify all the Pagan ancients, and cast his scorn up- 
on all the moderns, especially if they do but savour of 
miracles and the gospel, it is fit the admirers of this 
author should know, that nature and these ancients are 
not the same, though some writers always unite them. 
Reason and nature never made these ancient Heathens 
their standard, either of art or genius, of writing or he- 
roism. Sir Richard Steele, in his little essay, called the 
Christian Hero, has shown our Saviour and St. Paul 
in a more glorious and transcendant light, than a Virgil 
or a Homer could do for their Achilles JJlysses,or JEne- 
as ; and I am persuaded, if Moses and David had not 
been inspired writers, these very men would have 
ranked them at least with Herodotus and Horace, if 
not given them the superior place. 

* I grant when wisdom itself censures a weak and foolish performance, 
it will pass its severe sentence, and yet with an air;, of candour, if the 
author has any^thing valuable in him: But envy will sometimes imitate 
the same favourable airs, in order to make its false cavils appear more 
just and credible, when it has a mind to snarl at some of the brightest 
'performances of a human writer. 



64 IMPROVEMENT 

But where an author has many beauties consistent with 
virtue, piety and truth, let not little critics exalt them- 
selves, and shower down their ill nature upOn him with- 
out bounds or measure ; but rather stretch their own 
powers of soul till they write a treatise superior to that 
which they condemn. This is the noblest and surest 
manner of suppressing what they censure. 

A little wit, or a little learning, with a good degree 
of vanity and ill nature, will teach a man to pour out 
whole pages of remark, and reproach upon one real or 
fancied mitstake of a great and good author ; and this 
may be dressed up by the same talents, and made en- 
tertaining enough to the world, who loves reproach 
and scandal ; but if the remarker would but once make 
this attempt, and try to outshine the author by writing 
a better book on the same subject, he would soon be 
convinced of his own insufficiency, and perhaps might 
learn to judge more justly and favourable of the perfor- 
mance of other men. A cobler or a shoemaker may 
find some litlle fault with the latchet of a shoe that an 
Apelles had painted,and perhaps with justice too ; when 
the whole figure and portraiture in such as none but 
Apelles could paint. Every poor low genius may cavil 
at what the richest and the noblest hath performed ; 
but it is a sign of envy and malice, added to the little- 
ness and poverty of genius, when such a cavil becomes a 
sufficient reason to pronounce at once against a bright 
author, and a whole valuable treatise. 

X. Another, and thata very frequent fault, in passing a 
judgment upon books is this, thatpersonssp read thesame 
praises or the same reproaches over a whole treatise, 
and all the chapters in it, which are due only to some 
of them. They judge as it were by wholesale, without 
making a due 'distinction between the several parts or 
sections of the performance ; and this is ready to lead 
those who hear them talk into a dangerous mistake. 
Florusis a great and just admirer of the late Archbishop 
of Cambray, and mightily commends every thing he 
has written, and will allow no blemish in him ; whereas 
the writings of that excellent man are not all of a piece, 
nor are those very books of his, which have a good 
number of beautiful and valuable sentiments in them, 
to be recommended throughout, or all at once with- 



OF THE MIND. 65 

out distinction. There is his demonstration of the 
existence and attributes of God, which has justly gained 
an universal esteem for bringing down some new and 
noble thoughts of the wisdom of the creation to the 
understanding of the unlearned, and they are such as 
well deserve the perusal of men of science, perhaps as 
far as the 50th section ; but there are many of the fol- 
lowing sections, which are very weakly written, and 
some of them built upon an enthusiastical and mistaken 
scheme, a kin to the peculiar opinions of father Male- 
branche ; such as sec. 51, 58. Tiiat we know the finite, 
only by the ideas of the infinite. Sec. 55, 60. That 
the superior reason in man is God himself acting in 
him. Sec. 61, 62. That the idea of unity cannot be 
taken from creatures, but from God only ; and several 
of his sections, from 65 to 68, upon the doctrine of lib- 
erty, seem to be inconsistent. Again, toward the end 
of his book, he spends more time and pains than are 
needful, in refuting the Epicurean fancy of atoms 
moving eternally through infinite changes which might 
be done effectually in a much shorter and better way. 

So in his Posthumous Essays, and his letters, there 
are many admirable thoughts in practical and experi- 
mental rehgion, and very beautiful and divine senti- 
ments on devotion ; but sometimes in large paragraphs, 
or in whole chapters together, you find him in the 
clouds of mystic divinity, and he never descends within 
the reach of common ideas or common sense. 

But remember this also, that there are but few such 
authors as this great man, who talks so very weakly 
sometimes, and yet in other places is so much superior 
to the greatest part of writers. 

There are other instances of this kind, where men 
of good sense in the main, set up for judges, but they 
carry too many of their passions about them, and then, 
like lovers, they are in rapture at the name of their 
fair idol; they lavish out all their incense upon that 
shrine, and cannot bear the thought of admitting a 
blemish in them. 

You shall hear Altisono not only admire Casimere 
of Poland in his lyrics, as the utmost purity and per- 
fection of Latin poesy, but he will allow nothing innim 
to be extravagant or faulty, and will vindicate every 
,line ; nor can 1 much wonder at it when I have heard 
F 2 



66 IMPROVEMENT 

him pronounce Lucan the best of the ancient Latins, 
and idolize his very weaknesses and mistakes. I will read- 
ily acknowledge the Odes of Casimere to have more 
spirit and force, more magnificence and fire in them, 
and in twenty places arise to more dignity and beauty, 
than I could ever meet with in any of our modern 
poets ; yet I am afraid to say, that" Pala sutilise luce" 
has dignity enough in it for a robe made for the Al- 
niighty, Lib. 4. Od. 7. 1. 37 ; or that the Man of Virtue 
in Od. 3. 1. 44. under the ruins of heaven and earth, 
will bear up the fragments of the fallen worM with a 
comely wound on his shoulders. 

late ruenii 

Sitbjiciens sua colla ccelo 
Mundum dccoro vulnerefuldef : 
Interque ccelifragmina. 

Yet I must needs confess also, that it is hardly possi- 
ble a man should rise to so exalted and sublime a vein 
of poesy as Casimere, who is not in danger now and 
then of such extravagancies ; but still they should not 
be admired or defended, if we pretend to pass a just 
judgment on the writings of the greatest men. 

Milton is a noble genius, and the world agrees to con- 
fess it ; his poem of Paradise Lost is a glorious perfor- 
mance, and rivals the most famous pieces of antiquity ; 
but that reader must be deeply prejudiced in favour of 
the poet, who can imagine him equal to himself through 
all that work. Neither the sublime sentiments, nor 
dignity of numbers, nor force or beauty of expression, 
are equally maintained, even in all those parts which- 
require grandeur or beauty, force or harmony. I can- 
not but consent to Mr. Dryden's opinion, though 1 
will not use his words, that for some scores of lines 
together, there is a coldness and flatness, and almost a 
perfect absence of that spirit of poesy which breathes 
and lives and flames in other pages. 

XI. When you hear any person pretending to give 
his judgment of a book, consider witn yourself whether 
he be a capable judge, or whether he may not lie under 
some unhappy bias or prejudice for or against it, or 
whether he has made a sufficient inquiry to form his 
justest sentiments upon it. 

Though bp be a man of good sense, yet he isincapa-. 



OF THE MIND. 67 

ble of passing a true judgment of a particular book, 
if he be not well acquajnted with the subject of which 
it treats, and the manner in which it is written, be it 
verse or prose ; or if he hath not had an opportunity 
or leisure to look sufficiently into the writing itself. 

Again, though he be ever 'so capable of judging on all 
other accounts, by the knowledge of the subject, and 
of the book itself, yet you are to consider also, whether 
there be any thing in the author, in his manner, in his 
language, in his opinions, and his particular party, which 
■may warp the sentiments of him that judgeth, to think 
well or ill of the treatise, and to pass too favourable or 
too severe a sentence concerning it. 

If you find that he is either an unfit judge because of 
his ignorance, or because of his prejudices, his judgment 
of that book should go for nothing. Philographo is a 
good divine, an useful preacher, and an approved ex- 
positor of scripture, but he never had a taste for any of 
the polite learning of the age; he was fond of every' 
thing that appeared in a devout dress, but all verse 
was alike to nim. He told me last week there was a 
very fine book of poems published on the three Chris- 
tian graces. Faith, Hope, and Charity, and a most ele- 
fant piece of oratory on the four last things, Death, 
udgment. Heaven, and Hell. Do you think I shall buy 
either of those books merely on Philographo's recom^ 
mendation ? 

CHAP. VI. 

Of limng Instructions and Lectures, of Teachers attd 
Learners. 

I. X HERE are a few persons of so penetrating a 
genius, and so just a judgment, as to be. capable of 
learning the arts and sciences without the assistance 
of teachers. There is scarce any science so safely 
and so speedily learned, even by the noblest genius 
and the best books, without a tutor. His assistance is 
absolutely necessary for most persons, and it is very 
useful for all beginners. Books are a sort of dumb 
teachers, they point out the way to learning ; but if 
we labour under any doubt or mistake, they cannot 
answer sudden questions, or explain present d.0Tabt$ 



68 IMPROVEMENT j 

and difficulties ; this is properly the work of a living 
instructer. 

11. There are very few tutors who are sufficiently ! 
furnished with such universal learning, as to sustain 
all the parts and provinces of instruction. The sci- 
ences are numerous, and many of them lie far wide of 
each other ; and it is best to enjoy the in'^tructions of 
two or three tutors at least, in order to run through the 
w^hole encyclopcedia, or circle of sciences^ where it 
may be obtained ; then we may expect that each will 
teach the few parts of learning which are committed 
to his care in greater perfection. But where this advan- 
tage cannot be had with convenience, one great man 
must supply the place of two or three common instruc- 
ters. 

III. It is not sufficient that instructers be competently 
skilled in those sciences which they profess and teach ; 
but they should have skill also in the art or method of 
teaching, and patience in the practice of it. 

It is a great happiness indeed, when persons, by a 
spirit of party, or faction, or interest, or by purchase, 
are set up for tutors, who have neither due knowledge 
of science, nor skill in the way of communication. 
And, alas ! there are others, who with their ignorance 
and insufficiency, have self admiration and affrontery 
enough to set up themselves ; and the poor pupils fare 
accordingly, and grow lean in their understandings. 

And let it be observed also, there are some very learn- 
ed men, who know much themselves, but have not the 
talent of communicating their own knoAvledge ; or else 
they are lazy, and will take no pains at it. Either they 
have an obscure and perplexed way of talking, or they 
show their learning uselessly, and make a long peri- 
phrasis on every word of the book they explain, or 
they cannot condescend to young beginners, or they 
run presently into the elevated parts of science, be- 
cause it gives themselves greater pleasure, or they are 
soon angry and impatient, and cannot bear with a few 
impertinent questions of a young, inquisitive, and 
sprightly genius ; or else they skim over a science in a 
Tery slight and superficial survey, and never lead their 
disciples into the depths of it. 

IV. A good tutor should ha^Ke characters and quali- 
fitations vei*y different from all these. He is such an 



OF THE MIND. 64 

one as both can and will apply himself with diligence and 
concern, and indefatii:;able patience to efiFect what he 
undertakes ; to teach his disciples, and see that they 
leani ; to adapt his way and method as near as may be 
to the various dispositions, as well as to the capacities 
of those Avhom he instructs, and to inquire often into 
their progress and improvement. 

And he should take particular care of his own tem- 
per and conduct, that there may be nothing in him or 
about him which may be of ill example ; nothing that 
may savour of a haughty temper, or a mean and sordid 
spirit ; nothing that may expose him to the aversion or 
to the contempt of his scholars, or create a prejudice 
in their minds against him and his instructions ; but if 
possible, he should have so much of a natural candour 
and sweetness mixed with all the improvements of 
learning, as might convey knowledge into the minds of 
his disciples with a sort of gentle insinuation and sov- 
ereign delight, and may tempt them into the highest 
improvements of their reason by a resistless and in- 
sensible force. But I shall have occasion to say mor^ 
on this subject when 1 come to speak more directly 
of the methods of the communication of knowledge. 

y. The learner should attend with constancy and 
care on all the instructions of his tutor, and if he hap- 
pens to be at any time unavoidably hindered, he must 
endeavour to retrieve the loss by double industry for 
the time to come. He should always recollect and 
review his lectures, read over some 'other author or 
authors upon the same subject, confer upon it with his 
instructer or with his associates, and write down the 
clearest result of his present thoughts, reasonings, and 
inquiries, which he may have recourse to hereafter, 
either to re-examine them and to apply them to proper 
use, or to improve them further to his own advantage. 
VI. A student should never satisfy himself with bare 
attendance on the lectures of his tutor, unless he clear- 
ly takes up bis sense and meaning, and understands 
the things which he teaches. A young disciple should 
behave himself so well as to gain the affection and the 
ear of his instructer, that upon every occasion he may 
with the utmost freedom ask questions, and talk over 
hi-? own sentiments, his doubts and difficulties with 
him, and in a humble and modest manner, desire the 
solution of them. 



7t> IMPROVEMENT 

VII. t.et the learner endeavour to maintain an honour* 
able opinion of his instructer, and lieedf'uUy listen to 
his instructions, as one willing to be led by a more ex- 
perienced guide ; and though he is not bound to fall in 
ivith every sentiment of his tutor, yet he should so far 
comply with him as to resolve upon ajust consideration 
of the matter, and try and examine it thoroughly with 
an honest heart, before he presume to determine against 
him. And then it should be done with great modesty, 
with a humble jealousy of himself, and apparent un- 
W'iliingnessto differ from his tutor if the force of argu- 
ment and truth did not constrain him. 

VIII. It is a frequent and growing folly in our age, 
that pert young disciples soon fancy themselves wiser 
than those who teach them ; at the first view, or upon 
a very little thoug.it, they can discern the insignificancy, 
weakness, and mistake of what their teacher asserts. 
The youth of our day, by an early petulency, and pre- 
tended liberty of thinking for themselves, dare 
reject at once, and that with a sort of scorn, all those 
sentiments and doctrines which their teachers have 
determined, perhaps after long and repeated consider- 
ation, after years of mature study, careful observation, 
and much prudent experience. 

IX. It is true, teachers and masters are not infallible, 
nor are they always in the right ; and it must be ac- 
knowledged, it is a matter of some difficulty for younger 
minds to maintain ajust and solemn veneration for the 
authority and advice of their parents, and the instruc- 
tions of their tutors, and yet at the same time to secure 
to themselves a just freedom in their OAvn thoughts. 
We are sometimes too ready to imbibe all their senti- 
ments without examination if we reverence and love 
them ; or, on the other hand, if we take all freedom to 
contest their opinions, we are sometimes tempted to 
cast off that love and reverence to their persons which 
God and nature dictate. Youth is ever in danger of 
these two extremes. 

X. But I think I may safely conclude thus : Though 
the authority of a teacher must not absolutely deter- 
mine the judgment of his pupil, yet yoimg and raw 
and unexperienced learners should pay all proper defei'- 
^^nce that can be to the instructions of their parents 
^^nd teachers, short of absolute submission to their die- 



OF THE MIND- 71 

tates. Yet still we must maintain this, that they should 
never receive any opinion into their assent, whether it 
be conformable or contrary to the tutor's mind, with- 
out sufficient evidence of it first given to their own 
reasoning powers. 

CHAP. VII. 

Of learning a Language. 

L HE first thing required in reading an author, or in 
hearing lectures of a tutor, is, that you well understand 
the language in which thej^ write or speak. Living lan- 
guages, or such as the native tongue of any nation in 
the present age, are more easil}"^ .learned and taught by 
a few rules and much familiar converse, joined to the 
reading some proper authors. The dead languages are 
such as cease to be spoken in any nation ; asd even 
these are more easy to be taught, as far as may be, in 
that method wherein living languages are best learned ; 
i. e. partly by rule, and partly by rote or custom. And 
it may not be improper in this place to mention a few 
directions for that purpose. 

I. Begin with the most necessary and most general 
observations and rules which belong to that language, 
compiled in the form of a grammar ; and these are but 
few in most languages. The regular declensions and 
variations of nouns and verbs should be early and tho- 
roughly learned by heart, together with twenty or thirty 
of the plainest and most necessary rules of syntax. 

But let it be observed, that in almost all languages 
some of the most common nouns and verbs have many 
irregularities in them ; such are the common auxiliary 
verbs to he and to have, to do and to he done, &,c. The 
comparatives and superlatives of the words good^ had, 
great, much, small. Utile, Uc. and these should be learn- 
ed among the first rules and variations, because they 
continually occur. 

But as to other words which are less frequent, let but 
few of the anomalies or irregularities of the tongue be 
taught among the general rules to young beginners. 
These will come in afterwards to be learned by advan- 
ced scholars, in a way of notes on the rules, as in the 
liatin grammar, called the Oxford gramnaai", or in Rud^ 



n IMPROVEMENT 

diman's notes on his rudiments, he. Or they may i)« 
learned by examples alone, when they do occur ; or 
by a larger and more complete system of granmiar, 
which descends to the more particular forms of speech ; 
Co the heteroclite nouns of the Latin tongue which 
are taught in the school book called (^ucb Genus, should 
not be touched in the first learning of the rudiments of 
that tongue. 

II. As the grammar by which you learn any tongue 
should be very short at first, so it must be written in a 
tongue with which you are well acquainted, and which 
is very familiar to you. Therefore I much prefer the 
common English Accidence (as it is called) to any gram- 
mar whatsoever, written in Latin for this encf. The 
English Accidence has, doubtless, many faults ; but 
those editions of it which were printed since the year 
1728, under the correction of a learned professor, are 
the best, or the English rudiments of the Latin tongue, 
by that learned North Briton, Mr. Ruddiman, wMiich 
are perhaps the most useful books of this kind wiiich 
I am acquainted with ; especially because I would not 
depart too far from the ancient and common forms of 
teaching, which several good grammarians have done, 
to the great detriment of such lads as have been re- 
moved to other schools. 

The tiresome and unreasonable method of learn- 
ing the Latin tongue by a grammar with 
Latin rules, would appear, even to those masters who 
teach it so, in its proper colours of absurdity and 
ridicule, if those very masters would attempt to learn 
the Chinese or Arabic tongue, by a grammar written 
in the Chinese or Arabic language. Mr. Clarke of 
Hull, has said enough in a few pages of the preface to 
his new grammar, 172,3, to make that practice appear 
very irrational and improper; though he has said it in 
so warm and angry a manner that it has kindled Mr. 
Ruddiman to write' against him, and to say what can be 
said to vindicate a practice which I think is utterly in- 
defensible. 

III. At the same time ,when you begin the rules, begin 
also the practice. As for instance, when you decUoe 
MUSA MU9-E, read and construe the same day, some 
easy Latin author by the help of a tutor, or with some 
English translation ; choooe such a book whose style m 



OF THE MIND. 73 

simple, and the subject of discourse very plain, obvi- 
ous and not hard to be understood ; many little books 
have been composed with this view, as Cordcrius's 
Colloquies, some of Erasmus's little writings, the pay- 
ings of the wise men of Greece, Cato's Moral Distich- 
es, and the rest which are collected at the end of 
Mr. Ruddiman's English Grammar, or the Latin Tes- 
tament of Castellio's translation, which is accounted 
the purest I*atin, &:c. These are very proper upon this 
occasion, together with JEsop's and Phaedrus's Fables, 
and little stories, and the common and daily affairs of 
domestic life, written in the Latin tongue. But let the 
higher poets, and orators, and historians, and other 
writers, whose language is more laboured, and whose 
sense is more remote from common life, be rather kept 
out of sight until there be some proficiency made in the 
language. 

It is strange that masters should teach children so 
early TuUy's Epistles, or Orations, or the Poems of 
Ovid, or Virgil, whose sense is oftentimes difficult to find, 
because of the great transposition of the words ; and 
when they have found the grammatical sense, they 
have very little use of it, because they have scarce any 
notion of the ideas and designs of the writer, it being so 
remote from the knowledge of a child ; whereas, little 
common stories and colloquies, and the rules of a child's 
behaviour, and such obvious subjects, will much better 
assist the memory of the words by their acquaintance 
with the things. 

IV. Here it may be useful also to appoint the learn- 
er to get by heart the more common and useful words, 
both nouns and adjectives, pronouns and verbs, out 
of some well formed and judicious vocabulary. 
This will furnish him with names for the most familiar 
ideas, 

V. As soon as ever the learner is capable, let the tu- 
tor converse with him in the tongue which he is to 
be learned, if it be a living language, or if it be Latin, 
which is the living language of the learned world ; thus 
he will aquaint himself a little with it by rote, as well 
as by rule, and by living practice as well as by reading 
the writings of the dead. For if a child of two years 
old by this method learns to s})eak his mother tongue, 
I am sure the same method will greatly assist and fa^ 

G 



74 IMPROVEMENT 

cilitate the learning of any other language to those who 
are older. 

VI. Let the chief lessons and the chief exercises of 
schools V. c. where Latin is learned (at least for the 
first year or more) be the nouns, verbs, and general 
rules of syntax, together with a mere translation out 
of some Latin author into English; and let scholars be 
employed and examined by tlieir teacher, daily, in re- 
ducing the words to their original or theme, to the first 
case of nouns or first tense of verbs, and giving an ac- 
count of their formations and changes, their syntax and 
dependencies, which is called parsing. This is a most 
useful exercise to lead boys into a complete and. 
thorough knowledge of what they are doing. 

The English translations which the learner has made, 
should be well corrected by the master, and then they 
should be translated back a^ain for the next day's ex- 
ercise, by the child, into Latm, while the Latin author 
is withheld from him ; but he should have the Latin 
words given him in their first case and tense, and should 
never be left to seek them bimself from a dictionary ; and 
the nearer he translates it to the words of the author 
whence he derives his English, the more should the child 
be commended. Thus will he gain skill in two languages 
at once. I think Mr. Clark has done good service to the 
public by his translations of Latin books for this end. 

But let the foolish custom of employing every silly 
boy to make themes or declamations, and verses upon 
moral subjects, in a strange tongue, before he under- 
stands common sense, even in his own language, be 
abandoned and cashiered for ever. 

VII . As the learner improves let him acauaint him- 
self with the anomalous words, the irregular declen- 
sions of nouns and verbs, the more uncommon connex- 
ions of words in syntax, and the exceptions to the 
general rules of grammar ; but let them all be reduced, 
as far as possible, to those several original and general 
rules which he has learned, as the proper rank and 
place to which they belong. 

VIII. While he is doing this, it may be proper for 
him to converse with authors which are a little more 
difficult, with historians, orators, and poets, &,c. but let 
his tutor inform him of the Roman or Greek customs 
which occur therein. Let the lad then translate some 
parts of them into his mother tongue, or into some 



OF THE MIND. 75 

other well known language, and thence back again into 
the original language of the author. But let the verse 
be translated into prose, for poesy does not belong to 
grammar. 

IX. By this time he will be able to acquaint himself 
with some of the special emphasis of speech, and the 
peculiar idioms of the tongue. He should be taught 
also the special beauties and ornaments of the lan- 
guage ; and this may be done partly by the help of 
authors who have collected su<jh idioms and cast them 
into an easy method, and partly by the judicious re- 
marks which his instructer may make upon the authors 
which he reads, wheresoever such peculiarities of speech 
or special elegancies occur. 

X. Though the labour of learning all the lessons by 
heart that are borrowed from poetical authors which 
they construe, is an unjust and unnecessary imposition 
upon the learner, yet he must take the pains to commit 
to*memory the most necessary, if not all the common 
rules of grammar, with an example or two under each 
of them ; and some of the select and most useful peri-^ 
ods or sentences in the Latin or Greek author which he 
reads may be learnt by heart, together with some of 
the choiser lessons out of their poets ; and sometimes 
whole episodes out of heroic poems, &c. as well as 
whole odes among the lyrics may deserve this honour. 

XL Let this be always carefully observed, that the 
learners perfectly understand the sense as well as the 
language of all those rules, lessons, or paragraphs, which 
they attempt to commit to memory. Let the teacher 
possess them of their true meaning, and then the labour 
will become easy and pleasant ; whereas to impose on 
a child to get by heart a long scroll of unknown phra- 
ses, or words without any ideas under them, is a piece 
of useless tyranny, a cruel imposition, and a practice 
fitter for a jackdaw or parrot, than for any thing that 
wears the shape of a man. 

XII. And here, 1 think, I have a fair occasion given 
me to consider that question which has been often de- 
bated in conversation, viz. Whether the teaching of .a 
school full of boys to learn Latin bv the Heathen poets, 
as Ovid in his Epistles, and the silly fables of his Met- 
amorphoses, Horace, Juvenal, and Martial, in their im- 
pure odes. Satires, Epigrams, &c. is so proper and 
agreeable a practice in a Christian country. 



76 IMPROVEMENT 

XIII. (1.) I grant the language and, style of those 
men who wrote in their own native rongue, must be 
more pure and perfect in some nice elegancies and pe- 
culiarities, than modern writers of other nations who 
have imitated them ; and it is owned also that the beau- 
ties of their poesy may much excel ; but in either of 
these things boys cannot be supposed to be much im- 
proved or injured by one or the other. 

XIV. (2.) It shall be confessed too, that modern poets, 
in every living language, have brought into their works 
so many words, epithets, phrases, and metaphors, from 
the Heathen fables and stories of their gods and heroes, 
that in order to understand these modern writers, it is 
necessary to understand something of those ancient fol- 
lies ; but it may be onswered, that a good dictionary, 
or such a book as the Pantheon, or history of those 
Gentile deities, may give sufficient information of those 
stories, so far as they are necessary and useful to school 
boys. 

XV. (3.) I will grant yet further, that lads who are 
designed to make great scholars or divines may, by 
reading these Heathen poets, be taught better to under- 
stand the writings of the ancient fathers against the 
Heathen religion ; and they learn here what ridiculous 
fooleries the Gentile nations believed as the articles of 
their faith ; what wretched and foul idolatries they in- 
dulged and practised as duties of religion, for want of 
the light of divine revelation. But this perhaps 
may be learnt as well either by the Pantheon, or some 
other collection at school ; or after they have left the 
school, they may read what their own inclinations lead 
them to, and whatsoever of this kind may be really 
useful for them. 

XVI. But the great question is. Whether all these ad- 
vantages which have been mentioned will compensate 
for the long months and years that are wasted among 
their incredible and trifling romances, their false ana 
shameful stories of the gods and goddesses and their 
amours, and of the lewd heroes and vicious poets of 
the Heathen world? Can these idle and ridiculous 
tales be of real and solid advantage in human life ? Do 
they not too often defile the mind with vain, mischievous 
and impure ideas ? Do they not stick long on the fan- 
cy, and have an unhappy influence upon youth ? Do 
they not tincture the imagination with folly and vice, 



OF THE MIND. 77 

very early, and pervert it from all that is good and 
holy ? 

XVII. Upon the whole survey of things, it is my 
opinion, that for almost all boys who learn this tongue, 
it would be much safer to be taught Latin poesy (as 
soon and as far as they can need it) from those excel- 
lent translations of David's Psalms, which are given us 
by Buchanan in the various measures of Horace ; and 
the lower classes had better read Dr. Johnson's transla- 
tion of these Psalms, another elegant writer of the Scots 
nation, instead of Ovid's Epistles ; for he has turned 
the same Psalms, perhaps with greater elegance, mto 
elegiac verse, whereof the learned W. Benson, Esq. 
has lately published a noble edition, and 1 hear that 
these Psalms are honoured with an increasing use in the 
schools of Holland and Scotland. A stanza or a coup- 
let of these writers, would now and then stick upon 
the minds of youth, and would furnish them infinitely- 
better with pious and moral thoughts, and do some- 
thing towards making them good men and Christians, 

XVIII. A little book collected from the Psalms of 
both these translators, Buchanan and Johnston, and a 
fe%v other Christian poets, would be of excelleHt use 
for schools to begin their instructions in Latin poesy ; 
and I am well assured this would be richly sufficient for 
all those in lower rank, who never design a learned 
profession, and yet custom has foolishly bound them to 
learn that language. 

But lest it should be thought hard to cast Horace and 
Virgil, Ovid and Juvenal, entirely out of the schools, I 
add, if here and there a fetv lyric odes or pieces of satires, 
or some episodes of heroic verse, with here and there 
an epigram of Martial, all which shall be pure and clear 
from the stains of vice and impiety, and which may 
inspire the mind with noble sentiments, fire the fancy 
with bright and warm ideas, or teach lessons of morality 
and prudence, were chosen out of those ancient Roman 
writers for the use of the schools, and were collected 
and printed in one moderate volume, or two at the most, 
it would be abundantly sufficient provision out of the 
Roman poets for the instruction of boys in all that is ne- 
cessary m that age of life. 

Surely Juvenal himself would not have the face ta 
vindicate the masters who teach bovs his 6th satire, and 
G 2 



78 IMPROVEMENT 

many paragraphs of several others, when he himseh 

Jias charged us, 

Jfildictuf(£dum, visque hcec limina tangat 

Intra qucR puer est. Sat. 14. 

Suffer no lewdness, nor indecent speech, 

Th' apartment of the tender youth to reach Dryden. 

Thus far in answer to the foregoing question. But 
I retire ; for Mr. Clark, of Hull, in his treatise on Edu- 
cation, and Mr. Phillips, preceptor to the Duke of Cum- 
berland, have given more excellent directions for learn- 
ing Latin. 

XIX. When a language is learnt, if it be of any use 
at all, it is a pity it should be forgotten a^ain. It is 
proper, therefore, to tike all just opportunities to read 
something frequently in that language, when other ne- 
cessary and important studies will give you leave. As 
in learning any tongue, dictionaries which contain words 
and phrases should be always at hand, so they should be 
ever kept within reach by persons who would remember 
a tongue which they have learnt. Nor should we at any 
time content ourselves with a doubtful guess at the sense 
or meaning of any words which occur, but consult the 
dictionary, which may give us certain information, and 
thus secure us from mistake. It is mere sloth which < 
makes us content ourselves ^^^th uncertain guesses ; and 
indeed this is neither safe nor useful for persons who 
would learn any language or science, or have a desire 
to retain what they nave acquired. 

XX. When you have learnt one or many languages 
ever so perfectly, take heed of priding yourself in these 
acquisitions ; they are but mere treasures of words, or 
instruments of true and solid knowledge ; and whose 
chief design is to lead us into an acquaintance with things, 
or to enable us more easily to convey those ideas of that 
knowledge to others. An acquaintance with the various 
tongues is nothing else but a relief against the mischief 
which the building of Babel introduced ; and were 1 
master of as many languages as were spoken at Babel, I 
should make but a poor pretence to true learning or. 
knowledge, if I had not clear and distinct ideas, and 
useful notions in my head, under the words which my 
tongue could pronounce. Yet so unhappy a thing is 
human nature, that this sort of knowledge of sounds and 



OF THE MIND. 79 

syllables, is ready to puff up the mind with vanity, more 
than the most valuable and solid improvements of it. 
The pride of a grammarian or a critic, generally exceeds 
that of a philosopher. 

CHAP. vni. 

Of inquiring into the Sense and Meaning of any Wri- 
ter or Speaker^ and especially the Sense of the Sacred 
Writings. 

AT is a great unhappiness that there is such an ambi- 
guity in words and forms of speech, that the same sen- 
tence may be drawn into different significations ; where- 
by it comes to pass, that it is difficult sometimes for 
the reader exactly to hit upon the ideas which the 
Avriter or speaker had in his mind. Some of the best 
rules to direct us herein are such as these : 

1. Be well acquainted with the tongue itself, or lan- 
guage wherein the author's mind is expressed. Learn 
not only the true meaning of each word, but the sense 
which those words obtain when placed in such a par- 
ticular situation and order. Acquaint yourself with 
the peculiar power and emphasis of the several modes 
of speech, and the various idioms of the tongue. The 
secondary ideas .which custom has superadded to many 
•words, should also be known, as well as the particular 
and primary meaning of them, if we would understand 
any writer. See Logic, Parti. Chap. 4. ^ S. 

n. Consider the signification of those words and 
phrases, more especially in the same nation, or near 
the same age in which that writer lived, and in what 
sense they are used by authors of the same nation, 
opinion, sect, party, kc. 

Upon this account we may learn to interpret several 
phrases of the New Testament out of that version of 
the Hebrew Bible into Greek, which is called the Sep- 
tuagint ; for though that version be very imperfect and 
defective in many things, yet it seems to me evident, 
that the holy writers of the New Testament made use 
of that version many times in their citation of texts out 
of the Bible. 

HI. Compar.e the words and phrases in one place of 
an author with the same or kindred words and phrases 



30 IMPROVEMENT 

used in other places of the same author, which are 
general!}' called parallel places ; and as one expression 
explains another which is like it, so sometimes a contra- 
ry expression will explain its contrary. Remember 
always, that a writer best interprets himself ; and 
as we believe the Holy Spirit to be the supreme 
agent in the writings of the Old Testament and the 
New, he can best explain himself. Hence the the- 
ological rule arises, that scripture is the best interpreter 
of scripture ; and therefore Concordances, which show 
us parallel places, are of excellent use for interpretation. 

IV. Consider the subject of which the author is 
treating, and by comparing other places where he 
treats of the same subject, you may learn his sense 
in the place which you are reading, though sometimes 
the terms which he uses in those places may be very 
different. 

And on the other hand, if the author use the same 
words where the subject of which he treats is not just 
the same, you cannot learn his sense by comparing 
those two places, though the mere words may seem 
to agree ; for some authors, when they are treating of 
a quite different subject, may use perhaps the same 
words in a very different sense, as St. Paul does the 
words faith, and law, and righteousness. 

y. Observe the scope and design of the writer ; in- 
quire into his aim and end in that book, or section, or 
paragraph, which will help to explain particular senten- 
ces ; for we suppose a wise and judicious writer directs 
his expressions generally toward his designed end. 

VI. When an author speaks of any subject occasion- 
ally, let his sense be explained by those places where 
he treats of it distinctly and professedly ; where he 
treats of any subject in mystical or metaphorical terms, 
explain them by other places where he treats of the 
same subject in terms that are plain and literal ; where 
he speaks in an oratorical, affecting, or persuasive way, 
let this be explained by other places where he treats of 
the same theme in a doctrinal or instructive way ; where 
the author speaks more strictly, and particularly on any 
theme, it will explain the mere loose and general ex- 
pressions ; where he treats more largely, it will explain 
the shorter hints and brief intimations ; and whereso- 
ever he writes more obscurely, search out some more 



OF THE MIND. 81 

perspicuous passages in the same writer, by which to 
determine the sense of that obscurer language. 

VII. Consider not only the person who is introduced 
speaking, but the persons to whom the speech is direct- 
ed, the circumstances of time and place, the temper 
and spirit of the speaker, as well as the temper and 
spirit of the hearers ; in order to interpret scripture 
well, there needs a good acquaintance with the Jewish 
customs, some knowledge of the ancient Roman and 
Greek times and manners, which sometimes strike a 
strange and surprising light upon passages which before 
were very obscure. 

VIII. In particular propositions, the sense of an au- 
thor may be sometimes known by the inferences which 
he draws from them ; and all those senses may be 
excluded, which will not allow of that inference. 

Note. This rule indeed is not always certain in read- 
ing; and interpreting human authors, because they may 
mistake in drawing their inferences ; but in explaining 
scripture it is a sure rule ; for the sacred and inspired 
writers always make just inferences from their own 
propositions. Yet even in them we must take heed we 
do not mistake an allusion for an inference, which is 
many times introduced almost in the same manner. 

IX. If it be a matter of controversy, the true sense 
of the author is sometimes known by the objections 
that are brought against it. So we may be well assured, 
the Apostle speaks against our justification in the sight 
of God by our own works of noliness, in the 3d, 4th, 
and 5th chapters of the Epistle to the Romans, because 
of the objection brought against him in the beginning of 
the 6th chapter, viz. ' ffhat shall we say then ? Shall we 
continue in sin that grace may abound V which objec- 
tion could never have been raised, if he had been 
proving our justification by our own works of right- 
eousness. 

X. In matters of dispute take heed of warping 
the sense of the writer to your own opinion, by any la- 
tent prejudices of self love and party spirit. It is this 
reigning princijile of prejudice and party that has 
given such a variety of senses both to the sacred writers 
and others, which would never have come into the 
mind of the reader, if he had not laboured under some 
such prepQSsessions. 



82 IMPROVEMENT 

XI. For the same reason take heed of the prejudices 
of passion, mahce, envy, pride, or opposition to an au- \ 
thor, whereby you may be easily tempted to put a false 
and invidious sense upon his words. Lay aside tliere- ' 
fore a carping spirit, and read even an adversary -with 
attention and diUgence, with an honest design to find 
out his true meaning ; do not snatch at little lapses and 
appearances of mistake, in opposition t© his aeclared 
and avowed meaning ; nor impute any sense or opinion 
to him which he denies to be his opinion, unless it be 
proved by the most plain and express language. 

Lastly, Remember that you treat every author, wri- 
ter, or speaker, just as you yourselves would be willing 
to be treated by others, who are searching out the 
meaning of what you write or speak; and maintain 
upon your spirit an awful sense of the presence of God, 
who is the judge of hearts, and will punish those who 
by a base and dishonest turn of mind wilfully pervert 
the meaning of the sacred writers, or even of common 
authors, under the influence of culpable prejudices. 
See Morels Logic, Part I. Chap. 6. ^ 3. " Directions 
concerning the definition of Names. 

CHAP. IX. 

Rules of Improvement by Conversation. 

If we would improve our minds by conversation, it is 
a great happiness to be acquainted with persons wiser 
than ourselves. It is a piece of useful advice, therefore, 
to get the favour of their conversation frequently, as far 
as circumstances will allow ; and if they nappen to be 
a little reserved, use all obliging methods to draw out 
of them what may increase your own knowledge. 

II. Whatsoever company you are in, waste not the 
time in trifle and impertinence. If you spend some 
hours amongst children, talk with them according to 
their capacity ; mark the young buddings of infant 
reason ; observe the different motions and distinct 
workings of the animal and the mind, as far as you can 
discern them ; take notice by what degrees the little 
creature grows up to the use of his reasoning powers, 
and what early prejudices beset and endanger his un- 
derstanding. By this means you will learn how to 



OF THE MIND. 3S 

address yourself to children for their benefit, and per- 
haps you may derive some useful philosophemes or 
theorems for your own entertainment. 

III. If you happen to be in company with a merchant 
or a sailor, a farmer or a mechanic, a milk-maid or a 
spinster, lead them into a discourse of the matters of 
their own peculiar province or profession ; for every 
one knows, or should know his own business best, in 
this sense a common mechanic is wiser than a philoso- 
pher. By this means you may gain Some improvement 
m knowledge from every one you meet. 

IV. Confine not yourself always to one sort of 
company, or to persons of the same party or opinion, 
either in matters of learning, relij^ion, or the civil life, 
lest if you should happen to be nursed up or educated 
in early mistake, you should be confirmed and estab- 
lished in the same mistake, by conversing only with 
persons of the same sentiments. A free and general con- 
versation with men of very various countries, and of dif- 
ferent parties, opinions and practices, (so far as it may be 
done safely) is of excellent use to undeceive us in many 
wrong judgments which we majr have framed, and to 
lead us into juster thoughts. It is said, when ihe King 
of Siam, near China, first conversed with some Euro- 

Eean merchants, who sought the favour of trading on 
is coast, he inquired of them some of the common 
appearances of summer and winter in their coun- 
try ; and when they told him of water grooving so hard 
in their rivers, that men and horses and laden carriages 
passed over it, and that rain sometimes fell down as 
white and as light as feathers, and sometimes almost 
as hard as stones, he would not believe a word they 
said ; for ice, snow, and hail, were names of things Ut- 
terly unknown to him and to his subjects in that 
hot climate ; he renounced all traffic with such shame- 
ful liars, and would not suffer them to trade with his 
people. See here the natural effects of gross igno- 
rance. 

Conversation with foreigners on various occasions 
has a happy influence to enlarge our minds, and to set 
them free from any errors and gross prejudices we 
are ready to imbibe concerning them. Domicillus has 
never travelled five miles from his mothers chimney, 
and he imagines all outlandish men are papishes, and 



84 IMPROVEMENT 

worship nothing but a cross. Tytirus, the shepherd, 
was bred up all his life in the country, and never saw 
Rome : he fancied it to be only a huge village, and 
was therefore infinitely surprised to find such palaces, 
such streets, such glittering treasures and gay magnifi- 
cence, as his first journey to the city showed him, and 
with wonder confesses his folly and mistake. So Vir- 
gil introduces a poor shepherd : 

Urbem quam dicunt Romam, Melib(ze, puiavi 
Stultiis ego liuic noslroE, similem, quo scepe solemus 
Past ores ovium teneros depelkrefcetus, ^c. 

THUS ENGLISHED : 

Fool that I was, I thought imperial Rome 

Little market towns, where once a week we corae, 

Aud thither drive our tender lambs from home. 

Conversation would have given Tytirus a better no- 
tion of Rome, though he had never happened to travel 
thither. 

V. In mixed company, among acquaintance and 
strangers, endeavour to learn something from all. Be 
swift to hear, but be cautious of your tongue, lest you 
betray your ignorance, and perhaps offend some of 
those who are present too. The scripture severely 
censures those who speak evil of the things which 
they know not. Acquaint yourself therefore some- 
times with persons and parties which are far distant 
from your common life and customs ; this is a way 
whereby you may form a wiser opinion of men and 
things. Prove alt things, and holdfast that which is 
good, is a divine rule, and it comes from the Father of 
light and truth. But young persons should practice it 
indeed with due limitation, and under the eye of their 
elders. 

VI. Be not frightened or provoked at opinions dif- 
ferent from your own. Some persons are so confident 
they are in the right, that they will not come within the 
hearing of any notions but their own ; they canton out 
to themselves a little province in the intellectual world, 
where they fancy the light shines, and all the rest is in 
darkness. They never venture into the ocean of know- 
ledge, nor survey the riches of other minds, which are 
as solid, and as useful, and perhaps are finer gold than 



OF THE MIND. 85 

Tvhat they ever possessed. Let not men imagine there 
is no certain truth but in the sciences which they study, 
and amongst that party in which they were born and 
educated. 

VII. Believe that it is possible to learn something 
from persons much below yourself. We are all short 
sighted creatures ; our views are also narrow and limi- 
ted ; we often see but one side of a matter, and do not 
extend our sight far and wide enough to reach every 
thing that has a connexion with the thing we talk of; 
we see but in part, and know but in part; therefore it is 
no wonder we form no right conclusions, because we do 
not survey the whole of any subject or argument. Ev- 
en the proudest admirer of his own parts might find it 
useful to consult with others, though of inferior capacity 
and penetration. We have a different prospect of the 
same thing, if I may so speak, according to the different 
position of our understandings towards it ; a weaker 
man may sometimes light on notions which have es- 
caped a wiser, and which the wiser man might make a 
happy use of, if he would condescend to take notice of 
them. 

VIII. It is of considerable advantage, when we are 
pursuing any difficult point of knowledge, to have a 
society of ingenious correspondents at hand, to whom 
we may propose it ; for every man has something of a 
different genius and a various turn of mind, whereby 
the subject proposed will be shown in all its lights, it 
will be represented in all its forms, and every side of 
it be turned to view, that a juster judgment maybe 
framed. 

IX. To make conversation more valuable and use- 
ful, whether it be in a designed or accidental visit, 
among persons of the same or of different sexes, after 
the necessary salutations are finished, and the stream of 
common talk begins to hesitate, or runs flat and low, 
let some one person take a book which may be agree- 
able to the whole company, and by common consent 
let him read in it ten lines, or a paragraph or two, or a 
few pages, till some word or sentence gives an occasion 
for any of the company to offer a thought or two rela- 
ting to that subject. Interruption of the reader should 
he no blame, for conversation is the business ; whether 

H 



86 IMPROVEMENT 

it be to confirm what the author says, or to improve it, to 
enlarge uj)on or to correct it, to object against it, or to 
ask any question that is akin to it, and let every one that 
pleases add his opinion, ar^d promote the conversation. 
When the discourse sinks again or diverts to trifles, let 
him that reads pursue the page, and read on further 
paragraphs or pages till some occasion be given by a 
word or sentence for a new discourse to be started, and 
that with the utmost ease and freedom. Such a meth- 
od as this would prevent the hours of a visit fromr run- 
ning all to waste ; and by this means, even among scho- 
lars, they would seldom find occasion for that too just 
and bitter reflection, ' I have lost my time in the com- 
pany of the learned.' 

By such a practice as this, young ladies may very 
honourably and agreeably improve their hours ; while 
one applies herself to reading, the others employ their 
attention even among the various artifices of the needle ; 
but let all of them make their occasional remarks or 
inquiries. This will guard a great deal of that precious 
time from modish trifling, impertinence or scandal, 
which might otherwise aflbrd matter for painful repen- 
tance. 

Observe this rule in general^ whensoever it lies in 
your power to lead the conversation, let it be directed' 
to some profitable point of knowledge or practice, so 
far as may be done with decency ; and let not the dis- 
course and the hours be suffered to* run loose without 
aim or design ; and when a subject is started, pass not 
hastily to another, before you have brought the present 
tlieme of discourse to some tolerable issue, or a joint 
consent to drop it. 

X. Attend with sincere diligence while any one of 
the company is declaring his sense of the question 
proposed ; hear the argument with patience, though 
it differ ever so much from your sentiments, for you 
yourself are very desirous to be heard Avith patience by 
others who differ from you. Let not your thoughts 
be active and busy all the while to find out something 
to contradict, and by what means to oppose the speaker, 
especially in matters that are not brought to an issue. 
This is a frequent and unhappy temper and practice. 
You should rather be intent and solicitous to take up 
the mind and meaning of the speaker, zealous to seize 



OF THE MIND. 87 

and approve all that is true in his discourse ; nor yet 
should you want courage to oppose where it is necessa- 
ry ; but let your modesty and patience, and a friendly 
temper be as conspicuous as your zeal. 

XL When a man speaks with much freedom and 
ease, and gives his opinion in the plainest language of 
common sense, do not presently imagine you shall 
gain nothing by his company. Sometimes you will 
tind a person, who, in his conversation or his writings, 
delivers his thoughts in so plain, so easy, so familiar 
and, perspicuous a manner, that you both understand 
and assent to every thing he saith, as fast as you read 
or hear it ; hereupon some hearers have been ready to 
conclude in haste, ' Surely this man saith none but com- 
mon things, I knew as much before, or, I could have 
said all this myself.' This is a frequent mistake. Pel- 
lucido was a very great genius ; when he spoke in the 
senate, he was wont to convey his ideas in so simple 
and happy a manner, as to instruct and convince every 
hearer, and to enforce the conviction through the whole 
illustrious assembly ; and that with so much evidence, 
that you would have been ready to wonder that every 
one who spoke had not said the same things; butPelluci- 
do was the only man that could do it ; the only speaker 
who had attained this art and honour. Such is the wri- 
ter of whom Horace would say, 

■ Ut sibi quivis ; 

Speret idem, sudet multum, frustraque laboret 
Ausus idem. De Art. Poet. 

Smoothe be your style, and plain and natural, 
To strike the sons of Wappingor Whitehall. 
While others think this easy to attain, i 

Let them but try, and with their utmost pain, > 
They'll sweat and strive to imitate in vaih. } 

XII. If any thing seem dark in the discourse of your 
companion, so that you have not a clear idea of what 
is spoken, endeavour to obtain a clearer conception of 
it by a decent manner of inquiry. Do not charge the 
speaker with obscurity, either in his sense or his words, 
but intreat his favour to relieve your own want of pene- 
tration, or to add an enlightening word or two, that you 
may take up his Avhole meaning. 

If difficulties arise in your mind and constrain j^our 
dissent to the things spoken, represent what objections 



88 IMPROVEMENT 

some persons would be ready to make against the sen- 
timents of the speaker, without telling him you oppose. 
This manner of address carries something more modest 
and obliging in it, than to appear to raise objections of 
your own by Avay of contradiction to him that spoke. 

XIII. When you are forced to differ from him who 
delivers his sense on any point, yet agree as far as you 
can, and represent how far you agree ; and if there be 
any room for it, explain the words of the j^peaker in 
such a sense to which you can in general assent, and 
so agree with him ; or at least by a small fttidition or 
alteration of his sentiments show your o^wp sense of 
things. It is the practice and delight of a caimdheareijL i 
to make it appear how unwilling he is to oK/f^ from / 
him that speaks. Let the speaker know tha^rc is noth- . ' 
ing but truth constrains you to oppose him, and let that/ 
difference be always expressed in few, and civil, and 
chosen words, such as give the least offence. 

And be careful always to take Solomon's rule with 
you, and let your correspondent fairly finish his speech 
before you reply ; " for he that answereth a matter u- 
before he heareth it, it is folly and shame unto him." 
Prov. xviii. 13. 

A little Avatchfulness, care, and practice, in younger 
life, will render all these things more easy, familiar, 
and natural to you, and will grow into habit. 

XIV. As you should carry about with you a constant 
and sincere sense of your own ignorance, so you should 
not be afraid nor ashamed to confess this ignorance, by 
taking all proper opportunities to ask and inquire for 
farther information; whether it be the meaning of a 
word, the nature of a thing, the reason of a proposi- 
tion, the custom of a nation, k.c. never remain in ig- 
*norance for want of asking. 

Many a person had arrived at some considerable de- 
gree of knowledge, if he had not been full of self con- 
ceit, and imagined that he had known enough already, 
or else was ashamed to let others know that he was 
unacquainted with it. God and man are ready to teach 
the meek, the humble, and the ignorant ; but he that 
fancies himself to know any particular subject well, or 
that will not venture to ask a question about it, such an 
one will not put himself into the way of improvement 
by inquiry and diligence. A fool may be wiser in his 



OF THE MIND. 89 

own conceit than ten men who can render a reason, and *1 
such an one is very likely to be an everlasting fool ; and \ 
perhajDS also it is a silly shame which renders his folly ^ 
incurable. 

StultoTum incurata pudor rrvttlusulcera celat. 

Hor.Epist. 16. Lib. 1. 

IN ENGLISH THUS : 

If fools have ulcers, and their pride conceal 'em, 
They must have ulcers still, for none can heal 'em. 

XV^. Be not too forward, especially in the younger 
part of life, to determine any question in company 
with an infallible and peremptory sentence, nor speak 
with assuming airs and with a decisive tone of voice, 
young man in the presence of his elders should 
[rather hear and attend, and weigh the arguments 
which are brought for the proof or refutation of 
'any doubtful proposition, and when it is your turn to 
;peak, propose j^our thoughts rather in the way of in- 
quiry. By this means your mind Avill be kept in a 
iitter temper to receive truth, and you will be more 
ready to correct and improve your own sentiments, 
where you have not been too positive in affirming them. 
But if you have magisterially decided the point, you 
will iind a secret unwillingness to retract, though you 
should feel an inward conviction that you were in the 
wrong. 

XVI. It is granted indeed, that a season may happen, 
when some bold pretender to science may assume 
haughty and positive airs to assert and vindicate a 
gross and dangerous error, or to renounce and vilify 
some very important truth; and if he has a popular- 
talent of talking, and there be no remonstrance made 
against him, the company may be tempted too easily 
to give their assent to the impudence and infallibility 
of the presumer. They may miagine a proposition so 
much viliiied can never be true, and that a doctrine 
which is so boldly censured, and renounced can never 
be defended. Weak minds are too ready to persuade 
themselves, that a man w^ould never talk with so much 
assurance, unless he were certainly in the right, and 
could well maintain and prove what he said. By this 
means truth itself is in danger of being betrayed or lost, 
if there be no opposition made to such a pretending 
talker. 



60 IMPROVEMENT 

Now, in such a case, even a wise and a modest nnan 
' may assume airs too, and repel insolence with its own 
weapons. There is a time, as Solomon the wisest of men 
. teaches us, when a fool should be answered according to 
^ his folly, lest he be wise in his own conceit, and lest 
others too easily yeild up their faith and reason to his 
imperious dictates. Courage and positivity are never 
more necessary than on such an occasion. But it is 
good to join some argument with them of real and con- 
vincing force, and let it be strongly pronounced too. 

When such a resistance is made, you shall find some 
of these bold talkers will draw in their horns, when their 
fierce and feeble pushes against truth and reason are re- M 
pelled with pushing and confidence. It is pity indeed ■ 
that truth should ever need such sort of defences ; but ^ 
we know that a triumphant assurance hath sometimes 
supported gross falsehoods, and a whole compan)^ have 
been captivated to error, by this means, tHi^ome man 
with equal assurance hath rescued them. It is a pity that ^ 
any momentous point of doctrine should happen to 
fall under such reproaches, and require such a mode of 
vindication ; though if I happen to hear it, I ou^ht not 
to turn my back, and to sneak off in silence, and leave 
the truth to lie baflled, bleeding, and slain. Yetl must 
confess, I should be glad to have no occasion ever given 
me to fight with any man at this sort of weapons, even 
though I should be so happy as to silence his insolence, 
and to obtain an evident victory. 

XVII. Be not fond of disputing every thing jiro and 
con, nor indulge to show your talent of attacking and 
defending. A logic which teaches nothing else is little 
worth. This temper and practice will lead you just so 
far out of the way of knowledge, and divert your honest 
inquiry after the truth whieh is debated or sought. In 
Set disputes, every straw is often laid hold on to support 
our own cause ; every thing that can be done in any way 
to give colour to our argument is advanced, and that per- 
haps with vanity and ostentation. This puts the mind 
out of a proper posture to seek and receive the truth. 

XVIII, Do not bring a warm party spirit into a free 
conversation, which is designed for mutual improvement 
m the search of truth. Take heed of allowing yourself 
in those self satisfied assurances which keep the door of 
the understanding barred fast against the admission of 



OF THE MIND. 91 

any new sentiments. Let your soul be ever ready to 
hearken to furtherdiscoveries,from a constant and ruling 
consciousness of our present fallible and imperfect state ; 
and make itappearto your friends, thatit is no hard task 
for you to learn and pronounce those little words, / was 
mistaken, how bard soever it be for the bulk of mankind 
to pronounce them. 

'XIX. As you may sometimes raise inquiries for your 
own instruction and iniprovement, and draw out the 
learning, wisdom, and fine sentiments of your friends, 
who perhaps may be too reserved or modest ; so at 
other times, if you perceive a person unskilful in the 
matter of debate, you may by questions aptly proposed 
in the Socratic method, lead him into a clearer know- 
ledge of the subject ; then you become his instructer 
in such a manner as may not appear to make yourself 
his superior. 

XX. Take heed of affecting always to shine in com- 
pany above the rest, and to display the riches of your 
own understanding or your oratory, as though you 
■would render yourself admirable to all that are present. 
This is seldom well taken in polite company ; much 
less should you use such forms of speech as should in- 
sinuate the ignorance or dulness of those with whom 
you converse. 

XXI. Though you should not affect to flourish in a 
copious harangue and diffusive style in company, yet 
neither should you rudely interrupt and reproach him 
that happens to use it. But when he has done speak- 
ing, reduce his sentiments into a more contracted form, 
not with a show of correcting, but as one who is doubtful^ 
•whether you hit upon his true sentiments or no. Thus 
matters may be brought more easily from a wild confu- 
sion into a single point, questions may be sooner deter- 
mined, and dimculties more readily removed. 

XXII. Be not so ready to charge ignorance, preju- 
dice, and mistake upon others, as you are to suspect 
yourself of it ; and m order to show how free you are 
jrom prejudices, learn to bear contradiction with pa- 
tience; let it be easy to you to hear your own opinion 
strongly opposed, especially in matters which are 
doubtful and disputable amongst men of sobriety and 
yirtue. Give a patient hearing to arguments on all 



92 IMPROVEMENT 

sides, otherwise you give the company occasion to sus^ 
pect that it is not the evidence of truth has led you 
into this opinion, but some lazy anticipation of judg- 
ment; some beloved presumption, some long and rash 
possession of a party scheme, in which you desire to 
rest undisturbed. If your assent has been established 
upon just and sufficient grounds, why should you be 
afraid to let the truth be put to the trial of argu- 
ment ? 

XXIII. Banish utterly out of all conversation, and 
especially out of all learned and intellectual conference, 
every thing that tends to provoke passion, or raise a fire 
in the blood. Let ho sharp language, no noisy exclama- 
tion, no sarcasms or biting jests, be heard among you ; 
no perverse or invidious consequences be drawn from 
each other's opinions, and imputed to the person ; let 
there be no wilful perversion of another's meaning ; 
no sudden seizure of a la{)sed syllable to play upon it, 
nor any abased construction of an innocent mistake ; 
suffer not your tongue to insult a modest opponent that 
begins to yield ; let there be no crowing or triumph, 
even where there is evident victory on your side. 
All these things are enemies to friendship, and the 
ruin of free conversation. The impartial search of 
truth requires all calmnesE, and serenity, all temper and 
candour ; mutual instruction can never be attained in 
the midst of passion, pride, and clamour, unless we 
suppose in the midst of such a scene there is a 
loud and penetrating lecture read by both sides 
on the folly and shameful infirmities of human na- 
t,ture. 

XJCIV. Whensoever therefore any unhappy word 
shall arise in company that might give you a reasona- 
ble disgust, quash the rising resentment, be it ever so 
just, and command your soul and your tongue into si- 
lence, lest you cancel the hopes of all improvement for 
that hour, and transform the learned conversation into 
the mean and vulgar form of reproaches and railing. 
The man who began to break the peace in such a so- 
ciety, will fall under the shame and conviction of such 
a silent reproof, if he has any thing ingenious about 
him. If this should not be sufficient, let a grave ad- 
monition, or a soft or gentle turn of wit, vnth an air 



OF THE MIND. 9S 

of pleasantry, give the warm disputer an occasion to 
stop the progress of his indecent fire, if not to retract 
the indecency, and quench the flame. 

XXV. Inure yourself to a candid and obliging man- 
ner in all your conversation, and acquire the art of 
pleasing address, even when you leach as well as when 
you learn, and when you oppose as well as when you 
assert or prove. This degree of politeness is not to be 
attained without a diligent attention to such kind of 
directions as are here laid down, and a frequent exer- 
cise and practice of them 

XXVI. If you would know what 'sort of compan- 
ions you should select for the cultivation and advan- 
tage of the mind, the general rule is, Choose such as 
by their brightness of parts, and their diligence in stu- 
dy, or by their superior advancement in learning, or pe- 
culiar excellency m any art, science, or accomplishment, 
divine or human, may be capable of administering to 
your improvement ; and be sure to maintain and keep 
some due regard to their moral character always, lest 
while you wander in quest of intellectual gain, you fall 
into the contagion of irreligion and vice. No wise 
man would venture into a house infected with the 
plague in order to see the finest collections of any vir- 
luoso in Europe. 

XXVII. Nor is it every sober person of your ac- 
quaintance, no, nor every man of bright parts, or 
rich in learning, that is fit to engage in free conversa- 
tion for the inquiry after truth. £et a person have ev- 
er so illustrious talents, yet he is not a proper associate 
for such a purpose, if he lie under any of the following 
infirmities : 

(1.) If he be exceedingly reserved, and hath either 
no inclination to discourse, or no tolerable capacity of 
speech and language for the communication of his sen- 
timents. 

(2) If he be haughty and proud of his knowledge, 
imperious in his airs, and is always fond of imposing 
his^sentiment on all the company. 

(3.) If he be positive and dogmatical in his own opin- 
ions, and will dispute to the end ; if he will resist the 
brightest evidence of truth rather than suffer himself 
to be overcome, or yield to the plainest and strongest 
reasonings. 



94 IMPROVEMENT 

(4.) If he be one who always affects to outshine ajl 
the company/' and delights to hear himself talk and 
flourish upon a subject, and make long harangues, while 
the rest must be all silent and attentive. 

(5.) If he be a person of a whiffling and unsteady 
turn of mind, who cannot keep close to a point of con- 
troversy, but wanders from it perpetuallj^, and is al- 
wa3'^s solicitous to say something, whether it be per- 
tinent to the question or no. 

(6.) If he be fretful and peevish, and given to resent- 
ment upon all occasions ; if he knows not how to bear 
contradiction, or is ready to take things in a wrong 
sense ; if he be swift to feel a supposed offence, or to 
imagine himself affronted, and then break out into a 
sudden passion, or retain silent and sullen wrath. 

(7.) It he affect wit on all occasions, and is full of 
his conceits and puns, quirks or quibbles, jests and 
repartees ; these may agreeably entertain and animate 
an hour of mirth, but they have no place in the search 
after truth. 

(8.) If he carry always about him a sort of craft 
and cunning, and disguise, and act rather like a spy 
than a friend. Have a care of such an one as will make 
an ill use of freedom in conversation, and immediately 
charge heresy upon you, when you happen to differ 
from those sentiments which authority or custom has 
established. 

In short, you should avoid the man in such select 
conversation, who practices any thing that is unbecom- 
ing the character of a sincere, free, and open searcher 
after truth. 

Now, though you may pay all the relative duties of 
life to persons of these unhappy qualifications, and treat 
them with decency and love, so far as religion and hu- 
manity oblige you, yet take care of entering into a free 
debate on matters of truth or falsehood in their com- 
pany, and especially about the principles of religion- 
I confess, if a person of such a temper, happens to 
judge and talk well on such a subject, you may hear him 
"with attention, and derive what profit you can from his 
discourse ; but he is by no means to be chosen for a 
free confe»-ence in matters of inquiry and knowitdge. 

XXVIII. While I would persuade you to beware of 
such persons, and abstain from too much freedom ^'f 



OF THE MIND, 95 

discourse amongst them, it is very natural to infer that 
you should watch against the working of these evil 
qualities in your own breast, if you happen to be 
tainted with any of them yourself. Men of learning 'J 
and ingenuity will justly avoid your acquaintance, when \ 
they find such an unhappy and unsociable temper pre- "^ 
vailing in you. 

XXIX. To conclude : When you retire from com- 
pany, then converse Avith yourself in solitude, and in- 
jjuire what you have learned for the improvement of 
your understanding, or for the rectifying your inclbrta- 
tion, for the increase of your virtues, or the ameliorat- 
ing your conduct and behaviour in any future parte of 
life. If you have seen some of your company candid, 
modest and humble in their manner, wise and sagacious, 
just and pious in their sentiments, polite and graceful, 
as well as clear and strong in their expression, and uni- 
vei-sally acceptable and lovely in their behaviour, en- 
deavour to impress the idea of all these upon your mem- 
ory, and treasure them up for your imitation. 

XXX. If the laws of reason, decency, and civility, > 
have not been well observed among your associates, 
take notice of those defects foryour own improvement ; 
and from every occurrence of this kind, remark some- 
thing to imitate or to avoid, in elegant, polite and use- 
ful conversation. Perhaps you will find that some 
persons present have really displeased the company by 
too excessive and visible a desire to please ; i. e. by 
giving loose to servile flattery, or promiscuous praise ; 
\vhile others were as ready to oppose and contradict 
every thing that was said. Some have deserved just 
censure for a morose and affected taciturnity, and others 
have been anxious and careful lest their silence should 
be interpreted a want of sense, and therefore they 
have ventured to make speeches, though they^ had 
nothing to say which was worth hearing. Perhaps 
you will observe, that one Avas ingenious in his thoughts, 
and bright in his language, but he was so top full of 
himself, that he let it spill on all the company ; that he 
spoke well indeed, but that he spoke too long, and did 
not allow equal time or liberty to his associates. You 
will remark, that another was full charged to let out 
his words before his friend had done speaking, or im- 
patient of the least opposition to any thing he said. 



96 IMPROVEMENT 

You will remember that some persons have talked at 
large, and with great confidence, of things %vhich they 
understood not ; and others counted everything tedious 
and intolerable that was spoken upon subjects out of 
i V their sphere, and they would fain confine the conference 
f entirely within the limits of their own narrow know- 
ledge and study. The errors of conversation are al- 
most infinite. 

XXXI. By a review of such irregularities as these,' 
you may learn to avoid those follies and pieces of ill 
conduct which spoil good conversation, or make it less 
agreeable and less useful ; and by degrees you will ac- 
quire that delightful and easy manner of address and 
behaviour in all useful correspondencies, which may- 
render your company every where desired and beloved ; 
and at the same time, among the best of your com- 
panions, you may make the highest improvement in 
your own intellectual acquisitions, that the discourse 
of mortal creatures will allow, under all our disadvan- 
tages in this sorry state of mortality. But there is a 
day coming, when we shall be seized away from this 
lower class m the school of knowledge, where we labour 
under the many dangers and darknesses, the errors and 
the incumbrances of flesh and blood ; and our conver- 
sation shall be with angels and more illuminated spirits, 
in the upper regions of the universe. 

CHAP. X. 

Of Disputes. 

I. Under the general head of conversation for the 
improvement of the mind, we may rank the practice of 
disputing ; that is when two or more persons appear to 
maintain difierent sentiments, and defend their own, or 
oppose the other's opinion, in alternate discourse, by 
some methods of argument. 

il. As these disputes often arise in good earnest, 
where the two contenders do really believe the differ- 
ent propositions which they support ; so sometimes 
they are appointed as mere trials of skill in academies 
or schools, by the students ; sometimes they are prac- 
tised, and that with apparent fervour in courts of judica- 
ture by lawyers, ia order to gain the fees of their differ^ 



OF THE MIND. 97 

ent clients, while both sides perhaps arc realljr of the 
same sentiment with regard to the cause which is tried. 

III. In common conversation, disputes are often 
managed with^ifc^any forms of regularity or order, 
and they turn to^ood or evil purposes, chiefly accor- 
ding to the temper of the disputants. They may 
sometimes be successful to search out truth, soriietimes 
be effectual to maintain truth, and convince the mis- 
taken, but at other times a dispute is a mere scene of 
battle in wder to victory and vain triumph. 

IV. There are some few general rules which should 
be observed in all debates whatsoever, if we would 
find out truth by them, or convince a friend of his error, 
even though they be not managed according to any 
settled form of disputation. And as there are almost 
as many opinions and judgments of things as thers 
are persons, so when several persons happen to meet 
and confer together upon any subject, they are ready 
to declare their different sentiments, and support them 
by such reasonings as they are capable of. This is 
called debating, or disputing, as is above described. 

V. When persons begin a debate, they should always 
take care that they are agreed in some general princi- 
ples or propositions, which either more nearly or re- 
motely affect the question in hand ; for otherwise they 
have no foundation or hope of convincing each other ; 
they must have some common ground to stand upon 
while they maintain the contest. 

When they find they agree in some remote proposi- 
tion, then let them search farther, and inquire how 
near they approach to each other's sentiments ; and 
whatsoever propositions they agree in, let these lay a 
foundation for the mutual hope of conviction. Hereby 
you will be prevented from running at every turn to 
some original and remote propositions and axioms, 
which practice both entangles and prolongs a dispute. 
As for instance, if there was a debate proposed between 
a Protestant and a Papist, whether there be such a 
place as purgatory ; let them remember that they both 
agree in this point, that Christ has made satisfaction 
or atonement for sin, and upon this ground let them 
both stand, while they search out tlic controverted 
doctrine of purgatory, by way of conference or debute. 

VI. The question should be cleared from all doubt- 



98 IMPROVEMENT 

ful terms and needless additions; and all things that 
belon]^ to the question, should be expressed in plain and 
intelligible language. This is so necessary a thing, 
that without it, men will be expose^Wp such sorts of 
ridiculous contests as was found on^lTay between the 
two unlearned combatants, Sarto and Sutor, who as- 
saulted and defended the doctrine of transubstantiation 
with much Zealand violence ; but Latino happening to 
come into their company, and inquiring the subject of 
their dispute, asked each of them what he meant by 
that long word transubstantiation. Sutor readily in- 
formed him, that he understood bowing at the name of 
Jesus ; but Sartor assured him that he meant nothing 
but bowing at the high altar : " No wonder then," said 
Latino, "that you cannot agree, when you neither 
understand one another, nor the word about which you 
contend."! tliink the whole family of the Sartors andSu- 
tors would be wiser if they avoided such kind of debates 
till they understood the terms better. But alas ! even 
their wives carry on such conferences ; the other day 
one was heard in the street explaining to her less 
learned neighbour, the meaning of metaphysical sci- 
ence ; and she assured her, that as physic was medicine 
for the body, so metaphysics was medicine for the soul ; 
upon this they went on to dispute the point, how far 
the divine excelled the doctor. 

Audilum admissi risuin lentatu amici ? . 
Ridentem dioere verum quid vetat ? hor. 

Can it be faulty to repeat 

A dialogue that walk'd tfae street ? 

Or can my gravest friends forbear 

A laugh when such disputes they hear ? 

VII. And not only the sense and meaning of the 
words used in the question should be settled and ad- 
justed between the disputants, but the precise point of 
inquiry should be distinctly fixed ; the question in de- 
bate should be limited precisely to its special extent, or 
declared to be taken in its more general sense. As for 
instance, if two men are contending whether civil gov- 
ernment be of divine right or no; here it must be 
observed, the question is not whether monaw^y in one 
man, or a republic in multitudes of the jjeuple, or an 
aristocracy in a few of the chiefs, is appointed of God 



OF THE MIND. 99 

as necessary ; but whether civil government in its most 
general sense, or in any |form whatsoever, is derived 
from the will and appointment of God ? Again, the 
point of inquirj^ should be limited further. Thus, the 
question is not whether government comes from the 
will of God by the light of divine revelation, for that 
is granted ; but whether it be derived from the will of 
God by the li^ht of reason too. This sort of specifica- 
tion or limitation of the question, hinders and prevents 
the disputers from wandering away from the precise 
point of inc[uiry. 

It is this trifling humour or dishonest artifice o^ 
changing the question and wandering away from th^ 
first point of debate, which gives endless length to dis- 
putes, and causes both the disputants to part without 
any satisfaction. And one chief occasion of it is this ; 
when one of the combatants feels his cause run low and 
fail, and is just'ready to be confuted and demolished, he 
is tempted to step aside to avoid the blow, and betakes 
him to a different question ; thus, if his. adversary be 
not well aware of him, he begins to entrench himself 
in a new fastness and holds out the siege with a new 
artillerjr of thoughts and words. It is the pride of man % 
which is the spring of this evil, and an unwillingness ^ 
to yield up then* own opinions even to be overcome by 
truth itself. 

VIII. Keep this always therefore upon your mind as 
an everlasting rule of conduct in your debates to find 
out truth, that a resolute design, or even a warm affec- 
tation of victory, is the bane of all real improvement, and 
an effectual bar against the admission of the truth which 
j'^u profess to seek. This works with a secret, but a 
powerful and mischievous influence in every dispute, 
unless we are much upon our guard. It appears in 
frequent conversation ; every age, every sex, and each 
party of mankind, are so fond of being in the right, 
that they know not how to renounce this unhappy 
preiudice, this vain love of victory. 

When truth with bright evidence is ready to break 
in upon a disputant, and to overcome his objections and 
mistalies, how swift and ready is the mind to engage wit 
and fancy, craft and subtility, to cloud and perplex and 
puzzle the truth if possible I How eager is he to throw 
in gome impertinent question to divert from the main 



100 IMPROVEBIEJNT 

subject ! How swift to take hold of some occasional 
word thereby to lead the discourse off from the point 
in hand ! So much afraid is human nature of parting 
with its errors, and being overcome by Ifuth. Just thus 
a hunted hare calls up all the shifts that nature hath 
taught her, she treads back her mazes, crosses and con- 
founds her former track, and uses all possible methods 
to divert the scent, when she is in danger of being sei- 
zed and taken. Let puss practise what nature teaches ; 
but could one imagine, that any rational being should 
take such pains to avoid truth and to escape the im- 
provement of its understanding ? 

IX. When you come to a dispute in order to find 
out truth, do not presume that you are certainly pos- 
sessed of it beforehand. Enter the debate with a sin- 
cere design of yielding to reason on which side soever 
it appears. Use no subtle arts to cloud and entangle 
the question ; hide not yourself in doubtful words and 
phrases; do not affect little shifts and subterfuges to 
avoid the force of an argument ; take a generous pleas- 
ure to espy the first rising beams of truth, though it be 
on the side of your opponent ; endeavour to remove 
the little obscurities that hang about it, and suffer and 
encourage it to break out into open and convincing 
light ; that while your opponent perhaps may gain the 
better of your reasonings, yet you yourself may triumph 
over error, and I am sure that is a much more valuable 
acquisition and victory. 

X. Watch narrowly in every dispute, that your 
opponent does not lead you unwardly to grant some 
principle of the proposition, which will bring with it a 
fatal consequence, and lead you insensibly into his sen- 
timent, though it be far astray from the truth ; and by 
this wrong step you will be," as it were, plunged into 
dangerous errors before you are aware. Polonides in 
free conversation, led Incauto to agree with him in 
this plain proposition, that the blessed God has too 
much justice m any case to punish* any being who is 
id itself innocent; till he not only allowed it with an 
lAthinking alacrity, but asserted it in most universal 
and unguarded terms. A little after, Polonides came 
in discourse to commend the virtues, the innocence, 

* The word punish here signifies, to bring some natural jCvil upon a 
person on account of moral evil done. 



OF THE MIND. 101 

and the piety of our blessed Saviour ; and tl>ence in- 
ferred, it was impossible that God should ever punish 
so holy a person, who was never guilty of any crime ; 
then incauto espied the snare, and found himself rob- 
bed and defrauded of the great doctrine of the atone- 
ment by the death of Christ, upon which he had 
placed his immortal hopes, accoraing to the gospel. 

This taught him to bethink himself what a danger- 
ous concession he had made in so universal a manner, 
that God would never punish any being who was inno- 
cent, and he saw it needful to recal his words, or to 
explain them better, by adding this restriction or hmi- 
tation, viz. Unless this innocent being were some w ay 
involved in another's sin, or stood as a voluntary surety 
for the guilty; by this limitation, he secured the great 
and blessed doctrine of the sacrifice of Christ for the 
«ins of men, and learnt to be more cautious in his con- 
cessions for time to come. 

Two months ago, Fatalio had almost tempted his 
friend Fidens to leave off prayer, and to abandon his 
dependence on the Providence of God in the common 
affairs of life, by obtaining of him a concession of the 
like kind. Is it not evident to reason, says Fatalio, that 
God's immense scheme of transactions in the universe, 
was contrived and determined long before you and I 
were born ? Can you imagine, my dear Fidens. that the 
blessed God changes his origmal contrivances, and 
makes new interruptions in the course of them, so often 
as you and I want his aid, to prevent the little accidents 
of life, or to guard us from them ? Can you suffer 
yourself to be persuaded, that the great Creator of 
this world takes care to support a bridge which was 
quite rotten, and to make it stand firm a few minutes 
longer till you had rode over it ? Or will he uphold a 
falling tower while we two were passing by it, that such 
worms as you and 1 are, might escape the ruin ? 

But you say you prayed for his protection in the 
morning, and he certainly hears prayer. I grant he 
knows it, but are you so fond and weak, said he, as to 
suppose that the universal Lord of all, had such a re- 
gard to a word or two of your breath, as to niake 
alterations in his own eternal scheme, uponthataccount? 
Nor is there any other way whereby his providence 
can preserve you in answer to prayer, but by creating 
I ^ 



102 . IMPROVEMENT 

such perpetual interruptions and changes in his own 
conduct according to your daily behaviour. 

I acknowledge, says Fidens, there is no other way 
to secure the doctrine of divine providence, in all these 
common affairs, and therefore I begin to doubt wheth- 
er God does or ever will exert himself so particularly 
in our little concerns. 

Have a care, good Fidens, that you yield not too far ; 
take heed lest you have granted too much to Fatalio. 
Pray let me ask of you, could not the great God, who 
grasijs and survt-ys all future and distant things in one 
single view, could not he from the beginning, foresee 
your morning prayer for his protection, and appoint all 
second causes to concur for the support of that crazy 
bridge ; or to make that old tower stand firm till you 
had escaped the danger ? Or could not he cause alJ the 
mediums to work, so as to make it fall before you came 
near it? Can he not appoint all his own transactions 
in the universe, and every event in the natural world, 
in a way of perfect correspondence with his own 
foreknowledge of all events, actions, and appearances of 
the moral world in every part of it ? Can he not direct 
every thing in nature, which is but his servant, to act 
in perfect agreement with his eternal prescience of our 
sins, or of our piety ? And hereby all the glory of 
Providence, and our necessary dependence upon it by 
faith and prayer, are as well secured, as if he interposed 
to alter his own scheme every moment. 

Let me ask again, did not ne in his own counsels or 
decrees, appoint thunders, and lightnings, and earth- 
quakes, to burn up and destroy Sodom and Gomorrah, 
and turn them into a dead sea, just at the time when the 
iniquities of those cities were raised to their supreme 
height? Did he not ordain the fountains of the deep to 
be hroken up, and overwhelming rains to fall down 
from Heaven, just when a guilty world deserved to be 
drowned ; while he took care for the security of right- 
eous Noali, by an ark which would float on that very 
deluge of waters ? Thus he can punish the criminal 
when he pleases, and reward the devout worshipper 
in the proper season, by his original and eternal schemes 
of appointment, as well as if he interposed every mo- 
ment anew. Take heed, Fidens, that you be not 
tempted away by such sophism.s pf Fatalio, to with- 



OF THE MIND. 103 

hold prayer from God, and to renounce your faith irt 
his providence. 

Remember this short and plain caution of the sub- 
tile errors of men ; Let a snake but once thrust in his 
^head at some small unguarded fold of your garment, 
and he will insensibly and unavoidably wind his whole 
body into your bosom, and give you a pernicious 
wound. 

XI. On the other hand, when you have found your 
opponent make any such concession as may turn to 
your real advantage in maintaining the truth, be wise 
and watchful to observe it, and make a happy improve- 
mentof it. Rhapsodus has taken a great deal of pains 
to detract from the honour of Christianity, by sly insin- 
uations, that the sacred writers are perpetually promoting 
virtue and piety by promises and threatenings ; whereas, 
neither the fear of future punishment, nor the hope of 
future reward, can possibly be called good affections, or 
such as are the acknowledged springs and sources of 
all actions truly good. He adds further, that this fear, 
or this hope, cannot consist in reality with virtue or good- 
ness, if it either stands as essential to any moral per- 
formance, or as a considerable motive to any good 
action ; and thus he would fain lead Christians to be 
ashamed of the gospel of Christ, because oi^ its future 
and eternal promises and threatenings, as being incon- 
sistent with his notion of virtue ; for he supposes, that 
virtue should be so beloved and practised for the sake 
of its own, beauty and loveliness, that all other motives 
arising from rewards or punishments, fear or hope, do 
really take away just so much from the very nature of 
virtue, as their influence reaches to ; and no part oi 
those good practices are really valuable, but what arises 
from the mere love of virtue itself, without any regard 
to punishment or reward. 

But observe, in two pages afterwards, he grants, that 
this principle of fear of future punishment, and hope of 
future reward, how mercenary and servile soever it 
may be accounted, is yet in many circumstances a |;reat 
advantage, security, and support to virtue ; especially 
where there is danger of the violence of rage or lust, 
or any counter working passion to controul and over- 
come the good affections of the mind. 
Now, the rule and practice of Christianity,or the gos- 



104 IMPROVEMENT 

pel, as it is closely connected with future rewards and 
punishmenls, may be well supported by this concession. 
Pray, Rhapsodus, tell me, if every man in this present 
life, by the violence, of some counter working passion, 
may not have his good affections to virtue controlea^ 
or overcome? May not, therefore, his eternal fears 
and hopes be a great advantage, security, and support 
to virtue in so dangerous a state and situation, as our 
journey through this world towards a better? And 
this is all that the defence of Christianity necessarily 
requires. 

And yet further, let me ask our rhapsodist, if you 
have nothing else sir, but the beauty, and excellency, 
and loveliness of virtue, to preach and flourish upon, 
before such sorry and degenerate creatures, as the bulk 
of mankind are, and you have no future rewards or pun- 
ishments, with which to address their hopes and fears, 
how many of these vicious wretches will you ever reclaim 
from all their varieties of profaneness, intemperance,and 
madness ? How many have you ever actually reclaim- 
ed by this smooth, soft method, and these fine words ? 
What has all that reasoning and rhetoric done, which 
have been displayed by your predecessors, the Heathen 
moralists, upon this excellency and beauty of virtue ? 
What has it been able to do towards the reforming of 
a sinful world ? Perhaps now and then, a man of better 
natural mould, has been a little refined, and perhaps also, 
there may have been here and there a man restrained 
or recovered from injustice and knavery, from drunk- 
enness, and lewdness, and vile debaucheries, by this 
fair reasoning and philo«.ophv ; but have the passions 
of revenge and envy, of ambition and pride, and the 
inward secret vices of the mind, been mortified merely 
by this philosophical language? Have any of these 
men been made new creatures, men of real piety and 
love to God ? 

Go dress up all tiie virtues of human nature, in all 
the beauties of your oratory, and declaim aloud on 
the praise of social virtue, and the amiable qualities 
of goodness, till your heart or your lungs ache, among 
the looser beards of mankind, and you will ever 
find as your Heathen fathers have done before, that 
the wild passions and appetites of men are too violent 
to be restrained by such mild and silken language. 



OF THE MIND. 105 

You may as well build up a fence of straw and fea- 
thers, to resist a cannon ball, or try to quench a flaming 
grenado with a shell of fair water, as hope to succeed 
m these attempts. But an eternal heaven, and an eternal 
hell, carry divine force and power with them ; this doc- 
trine from the mouth of Christian preachers, has begun 
the reformation of multitudes ; this gospel has recover- 
ed thousands amongthenationSjfrominiquity and death. 
They have been awakened by these awful scenes to 
begin religion, and afterwards, their virtue has impro- 
ved itself into superior and more refined principles and 
habits by divine grace, and risen to high and eminent 
degrees, though not to a consummate state. The bless- 
ed God knows human nature much better than Rhap- 
sodus doth, and has throughout his word apjpointed a 
more proper and more effectual method of adclress to it^ 
by the passions of hope and fear, by punishments and 
rewards. 

If you read on four pages further in these writings, 
you will find the author makes another concession. He 
allows that the master of a family, using proper rewards 
and gentle punishments towards his children, teaches 
them goodness, and by this help instructs them in a 
virtue, which afterwards they practise upon other 
grounds, and Avithout thinking of a penalty or a bribe; 
and this, savs he, is what we call a liberal education, 
and a liberal service. 

This new concession of that author may also be very 
happily improved in favour of Christianity. What arc 
the best of men in this life ? They are by no means per- 
fect in virtue: we are all but children here under the great 
Master of the family, and he is pleased, by hopes and 
fears, by mercies and corrections, to instruct us in virtue, 
and to conduct us onward towards the sublimer and 
more perfect practice of it in the future world, where 
it shall be performed, as in his own language, perhaps 
without thinking of penalties and bribes. And since 
he hath allowed that this conduct may be called a liberal 
education and a liberal service, let Christianity then be 
indulged the title of a liberal education also, and it is 
admirably fitted for sueh frail and sinful creatures, while 
they are training up towards the sublimer virtues of 
the heavenly state. 

XII. When you are engaged in a dispute with a per- 
son of very different principles from yourself, and you 



106 IMPROVEMENT 

cannot find any ready way to prevail with him to em- 
brace the truth by principles which you both freely ac- 
knowledge, you may fairly make use of his own prin- 
ciples to show him hts mistake, and thus convince or 
silence him from his own concessions. 

If your opponent should be a Stoic philosopher, or 
a Jew, you may pursue your argument in defence of 
some Christian doctrine or duty against such a dispu- 
tant, by axioms or laws borrowed either from Zeno or 
Moses. And though you do not enter into the inauiry 
how many of the lav>'s of Moses are abrogated, or 
whether Zeno was right or wrong in his philosophy, yet 
if from the principles and concession of your opponent, 
you can support your argument for the gospel of Christ, 
this has been always counted a fair treatment of an ad- 
versary, and it is called argumentum ad honiinetn, or 
ratio et concessis. St. Paul sometimes makes use of 
this sort of disputation when he talks with Jews or 
Heathen philosophers; and at least he silences if not 
convinces them , which is sometimes necessary to be 
done against an obstinate and clamorous adversary, 
that just honour might be paid to truths which he knew 
were divine, and that the only true doctrine of salvation 
mi^ht be confirmed and propagated among sinful and 
dying mett. 

XIII. Yet great care must he taken lest your debates 
break in upon your passions, and awaken them to take 

Eart in the controversy. When the opponent pushes 
ard, and gives just and mortal wounds to our opinions, 
our passions are very apt to feel the strokes, and to rise 
in resentment and defence. Self is so mingled with the 
sentiments which we have chosen, and hassuch a tender 
feeling of all the opposition which is made to them, that 
personal brawls are very ready to come in as seconds, 
to succeed and finish the dispute of opinions. Then 
noise and clamour and folly appear in all their shapes, 
and chase reason and truth out of sight. 

How unhappy is the case of frail and wretched man- 
kind in this dark and dusky state of strong passion and 
glimmering reason ? How ready are we, when our pas- 
sions are engaged in the dispute, to consider more Vthat 
loads of nonsense and reproach we can lay upon our 
opponent, than what reason and truth require in the 
contrQversy itself. Dismal are the consequences man- 



OF THE MIND. 1^7 

kind are too often involved in by this evil principle ; h 
is this common and dangerous practice that carries the 
heart aside from all that is fair and honest in our 
search after truth, or the propagation of it in the world- 
One would wish from one's very souj, tliat none of 
the Christian fathers had been guilty of such follies as 
these. 

But St. Jerome fairly confesses this evil principle, in 
his apology for himself to Pammachius, that he had not 
so much regarded what was exactly to be spoken in 
the controversy he had in hand, as what was fit to lay 
a load on Jovinian. And indeed, I fear this was 
the vile custom of many of the writers, even in the 
church affairs, of those times. But it will be a double 
scandal upon us in our more enlightened age, if we 
will allow ourselves in a conduct so criminai and dis- 
honest. Happy souls, which keep such a sacred do- 
minion over their inferior and animal powers, and all 
the influences of pride and secular interest, that the 
sensitive tumults, or these vicious influences, never 
rise to disturb the superior and better operations of the 
reasoning mind ! 

XIV. These general directions are necessary, or at 
least useful, in all debates %vhatsoever, whether they 
arise in occasional conversation, or are appointed at 
any certain time or place ; whether they are managed 
with or without any formal rules to govern them. But 
there are three sorts of disputation,*in which there are 
some forms and orders observed, and which are distin- 
guished by these three names, viz. Socraiic, Forensic, 
and Academic, i. e. the disputes of the schools. 

Concerning each of these it may not be improper to 
discourse a little, and give a few particular directions or 
remarks about them. 

CHAP. XI. 

Tlic Socratical Way of Dispuiaiion, 

1. X HIS method of dispute derives its name from 
Socrates, by whom it was practised, and by other phi- 
losophers in his age, long before Aristotle invented the 
particular"! forms of syllogism in mood and figure, 
which are now used in scholastic disputations. 



108 IMPROVEMENT 

II. The Socratical way is managed by questions and 
answers in such ;i manner as this, viz. If I would lead a 
person into the belief of a heaven and a hell, or a future 
state of rewards and punishments, 1 might begin in 
some such manner of inquiry, and suppose the most 
obvious and easy answers. 

Qiiest. Docs not God govern the world ? 

JIns. Surely he that made it governs it. 

Quest. Is not God both a good and righteous gov- 
ernor. 

»4ns. Both these characters doubtless belong to him. 

Quest. What is the true notion of a good and right- 
eous Governor ? 

^7is. That he punishes the wicked and rewards the 
good. 

Quest. Are the good always rewarded in this life ? 

w^ns. No surely, for many virtuous men are misera- 
ble here, and greatly afflicted. 

Quest. Are the wicked always punished in this life ? 

•6!rts. No certainly, for many of them live without 
sorrow, and some of the vilest of men are often raised 
to great riches and honour. 

Quest. Wherein then doth God make it appear that 
he is good and righteous ? 

Ans. 1 own there is but little appearance of it on 
earth. 

Quest Will there not be a time then when the tables 
shah be turned, and the scene of things chan^^ed, since 
God governs mankind righteously ? 

Ans. Doubtless, there must be a proper time, where- 
in God will make that goodness and that righteousness 
to appear. 

Quest. If this be not before their death, how can it 
be done ? 

Ans. I can think of no other way but by supposing 
man to have some existence after this life. 

Quest. Are you not convinced then that there must 
be a state of reward and punishment after death ? 

Jins. Yes, surely, 1 now see plainly that ihe goodness 
and righteousness of God, as Governor of the world, 
necessHrily reauire it. 

HI. No'w the advantages of this method are very 
considerable. 

(I.) It represents the form of a dialogue or common 



OF THE MIND. 109 

tonvcrsation, which is a much more easy, more pleas- 
ant, and a more sprightly way of instruction, and more 
fit to excite the attention, and sharpen the penetration 
of the learner, tharif* solitary reading, or silent attention 
to a lecture. Man being a sociable creature, delights 
more in conversation, and learns better this way, if it 
could always be wisely and hapj:)ily practised. 

(2.) This method has something very obliging in it, 
and carries a very humble and condescending air, when 
he that instructs seems to be the inquirer, and seeks in- 
formation from him who learns. 

(3.) It leads the learner into the knowledge of truth 
as it were by his own invention, which is a very pleas- 
ing thing to human nature; and by questions perti- 
nently and artificially proposed, it does as effectually 
draw him on to discover his own mistakes, which he 
is much more easily persuaded to relinquish when he 
seems to have discovered them himself. 

(4.) It is managed in a great measure in the form of the 
most easy reasoning, always arising from something 
asserted or known in the foregoing answer, and so pro- 
ceeding to inquire something unknown in the following 
question, which again makes way for the next answer. 
Now such an exercise is ver}^ alluring and entertaining 
to the understanding, while its own reasoning power§f 
are all along employed ; and tlxat without labour or 
difficulty, because the querist finds out and propose* 
all the intermediate ideas or middle terms. 

ly. There is a method very near akin to this, which 
has much obtained of late, viz. writing controversies 
by questions only, or confirming or refuting any position, 
or persuading to or dehorting from any practice, by 
the mere proposal of queries. The ajiswer to them is 
supposed to be so plain and so necessary, that they are 
not expressed, because the query itself carries a con- 
vincing argument in it, and seems to determine what 
the answer must be. 

T. If Christian catechisms could be framed in thfe 
manner of a Socratical dispute by question and answer, 
it would wonderfully enlighten the minds of children, 
and it would improve their intellectual and reasoning 
powers, at the same time that it leads them into the 
knowledge of religion ; and it is upon one account 
well suited to the capacity of children ; for the questions 
K. 



110 IMPROVEMENT 

may be pretty numerous, and the querist must not 
proceed too swiftly towards the determination of his 
point proposed, tliat he may with more ease, with 
orighter evidence, and with surer success, draw the 
learner on to assent to those principles, step by step, 
from whence the final conclusion will naturally arise. 
The only inconvenience would be this, that if children 
were to reason out all their way, entirely into the 
knowledge of every part of their religion, it Avould 
draw common catechisms into too large a volume for 
their leisure, attention, or memory. 

Yet those who explain their catechisms to them may, 
by due application and forethought, instruct them m 
this manner. 

CHAP. XII. 

Of Forensic Disputes. 

I. A HE Forum was a public place in Rome where 
lawyers and orators made their speeches before the 
proper judge in matters of property, or in criminal 
cases, to accuse or excuse, to complain or defend ; 
thence all sorts of disputations in public assemblies or 
courts of justice, where several persons make their dis- 
tinct speeches for or against any person or thing what- 
soever, but more especially in civil matters, may come 
under the name of Forensic Disputes. 

II. This is practised not only in the courts of judi- 
cature, where a single person sits to judge of the truth 
or goodness of any cause, and to determine accordinjj 
to the weight of reasons on either side ; but it is used 
also in political senates or parliaments, ecclesiastical 
synods, and assemblies of various kinds. 

Jn these assemblies, generally one person is chosen 
chairman, or moderator, not to give a determination to 
the controversy, but chiefly to keep the several speak- 
■ ers to the rules of order and decency in their conduct ; 
but the final determination of the cjuestions arises from 
the majority of opinions or votes in the assembly, ac- 
cording as they are or ought to be sv^ayed by the supe- 
rior weight of reason appearing in the several speeche? 
that are made. 



OF THE MIND. HI 

Hi. The metdiod of proceeding is usually in some 
such form as this. The first person who speaks when 
the court is set, opens the case either more briefly or 
at large, and proposes the case to thejudge or the chair- 
map, or moderator of the assembly,^ and gives his own 
reasons for his opinion in the case proposed. 

IV. This person is succeeded by one, or perhaps two, 
or several more, who paraphrase on the same subject, 
and argue on the same side of the question ; they con- 
firm what the first has spoken, and urge new reasons to 
enforce the same ; then those who are of a different opin- 
ion etand up and make their several speeches in a suc- 
cession, opposing the cause which othershavemaintain- 
ed, giving their reasons against it, and endeavouring to 
refute the arguments whereby the first speakers have 
supported it. 

V. After this, one and another rises up to make their 
replies, to vindicate or to condemn, to establish or to 
confute what has been offered before, on each side of 
tlie question ; till at last according to the rules, orders, 
or customs of the court or assejxibly, the controversy- 
is decided, either by a single judge, or the suffrage of 
the assembly. 

VI. Where the question or matter in debate consists 
of several parts, after it is once opened by the first or 
second speaker, sometimes those who follow take each 
of them a particular part of the debate, according to 
their inclination or their prior agreement, and apply 
themselves to argue upon that single point only, that 
so the whole complexion of the debate may not be 
thrown into confusion by the variety of subjects, if 
every speaker should handle all the subjects of debate,. 

VII. Before the final sentence of determination is 
given, it is usual to have the reasons and arguments 
whicjpi have been offered on both sides, summed up 
and represented in a more compendious manner ; and 
this is done either by the appointed judge of the courts, 
or the chairman, or some noted person in the assembly, 
that so judgment may proceed upon the fullest survey 
of the whole subject, that as far as possible in human 
affairs, nothing may be done contrary to truth or 
justice. 

VIII. As this is a practice in which multitudes of 
gentlemen, besides these of tlie learned professions, 



11£ DIPROVEMENT 

msy be engaged, at least in their maturer years 'of life, 
so it would be a very proper and useful thing to intro- 
duce this ^•ustom into our academies, viz. to propose 
cases, and let the students debate them in a Forensic 
manner in the presence of their tutors. There was 
something of this kind practised by the Roman youth 
in their schools, in order to train them up' for orators, 
both in the forum and in the senate. Perhaps Juvenal 
gives some hints of it when he says, 

et nos 

Consilium dedimus Syll(B,privaiusutaUum 
Dormiret Sat. 1. 

Where with men-boys I strove to get renown, 

Advisinj; Syii'a to a private gown, 
That lie might sleep the sounder. 

Sometimes these were assigned to the boys as single 
subjects of a theme or declamation ; so the same poet 
speaks sarcastically to Hannibal, 

;./ dentens, et saras curre per Alpes, ' 

Vt puerisplaceasetdedamatiojias. Sal. 10. 

Go climb the ru£:ged Alps, ambitious fool, 
To please the boys, and be a theme at school. 

See more of this matter in Kennet's antinuities of 
Rome, in the second Essay on the Roman Education. 

CHAP. XHI. 

Of Academic or Scholastic Disputation. 

X HE common methods in which disputes are mana- 
ged in schools of learning are these, viz. 

L The tutor appoints a question in some of the sci- 
ences, to be debated amongst his students ; one of them 
undertakes to affirm or deny the question, and defend 
his assertion or negation, and to answer all objections 
against ; he is called the respondent ; and the rest of the 
students in the same class, or who pursue the same 
science, are th.- opponents, who are appointed to dis- 
pute or raise objections against the propositions thus 
affirmed or denied. 



OF THE MIND. 113 

II. Each of the students successively in their turn 
becomes the rcspoiideifror the defender of that prop- 
osition, while the rest oppuse it also successively in 
their turns. ^ 

III. It is the business of trie respondent to write a 
thesis in Latin, or short discourse on the question pro- 
posed ; and he either alfirms or denies the tjuestion ac- 
cording to f!he opinion of the tutor, which is supposed 
to be the truth, and he reads it at the beginning of the 
dispute. 

IV. In his discourse, (which h written with as great 
accuracy as the youth is capable of) he explains tha 
terms of the question, frees them from all ambiguity, 
fixes their sense, declares the trye intent and meaning of 
the qu€ stion itself, sepaJ|||^s it from other questions with 
which it may have be^aBbrnplicated, and distinguishes 
it from other questions which may happen to be akin to 
it, and then pronounces in the rfegative or affirmative 
concerning it. 

V. When this is done, then i» the second part of his 
discourse, he gives his own strongest arguments to con- 
firm the proposition he has laid down, i. e. to vindicate 
his own side of the question ; but he does not usually 
proceed to represent the objections against it, and to 
solve or answer them ; for it is ttie business of the 
other students to raise objections in disputing. 

VI. Note. In some schools the respondent is admitted 
to talk largely upon the question, with many flourishes 
and illustrations, to introduce great authorities from 
^ncienl and modern writings for the support of it, and 
to scatter Latin reproaches in abundance on aH those 
who are of a different sentiment. But this is not always 
permitted, nor should it indeed be ever indulged, lest 
it teach youth to reproach, instead of reasoning. 

VH. When the respondent has read over his thesis 
in the school, the junior student makes an objection, 
and draws it ug in* the regular form of a syllogism ; the 
respondent rejieats^the objection, and either dfenies the 
major or minor proposition directly, or he distinguish- 
es upoaiiome wora or phrase in the major or minor, 
and shows in what sense the proposition may bt true, 
but that sense does not affect the question ; and then 
declares that in the sense which affctjts the pre.iy:t 



114 IMPROVEMENT 

question, the proposition is not true, and consequently 
he denies it. *^ 

VIII. Then the opponent proceeds by another syl- 
logism to vindicate the proposition that is denied ; again 
the respondent answers Wy denying or distinguishing. 

Thus the disputation goes on in a series of success- 
ion of syllogisms and answers, till the objector is silen- 
ced, and has no more to say. 

IX. When he can go no further, the next student 
begins to propose his objection, and then the third and 
the fourth, even to the senior, who is the last opponent. 

X. During this time, the tutor sits in the chair as pres- 
ident or moderator, to see that the rules of disputation 
and decency be observed on both sides ; and to admon- 
ish each disputant of any irrejaalarity in their conduct. 
Hift work is also to illustrate md explain the answer or 
distinction of the respondenrKvhere it is obscure, to 
strengthen it where it is weak, and to correct it where 
it is false ; and when the respondent is pinched with a 
strong objection, and is at a loss for an answer, the 
moderator assists him, and suggests some answer to 
the objection of the opponent, in defence of the ques- 
tion, according to his own opinion or sentiment. 

XI. In public disputes, where the opponents and 
respondents choose their own side of the question, the 
moderator's work is not to favour either disputant ; 
but he only sits as president to see that the laws of dis- 
putation be observed, and a decorum maintained. 

XII. Now the laws of disputation relateeithertothe 
opponent, or to the respondent, or to both. 

The laws obliging the opponent are these : 

1. That he must directly contradict the propositions 
of the respondent, and not merely attack any of the 
arguments whereby the respondent has supported 
that proposition ; for it is one thing to confute a aingle 
argument of the respondent, and another to confute 
the thesis itself. 

2. {Which is akin to the former.) He must contra- 
dict or oppose the very sense and intention of the prop- 
osition as the respondent has stated it, and nojLinerely 
oppose the words of the thesis in any other sctUb ; for 
this would be the way to plunge the dispute into am- 
biguity and darkness, to talk beside the question, to 



OF THE MIND. 115 

wrangje about words, and to attack a proposition differ- 
ent from what the respondent has espoused, which is 
called ignoratio eltncla. 

3. He must propose his argumenta in a plain, short, 
and syllogistic form, according to the rules of logic, 
without flying to fallacies or sophisms ; and as far as 
may be, he should use categorical syllogisms. 

4. Though the respondent may be attacked either 
upon a point of his own concession, which is called ar- 
gumentum ex concessis, or by reducing him to an absur- 
dity, which is called reductio ad ahsurdum, yet it is the 
neatest, the most useful, and the best sort of disputa- 
tion, where the opponent draws his objections from 
the nature of the question itself. 

5. Where the respondent denies any proposition, the 
opponent, if he proceed, must directly vindicate and 
confirm that proposition, i. e. he must ?nake that prop- 
osition the conclusion of his next syllogism. 

6. Where the respondent limits or distinguishes any 
proposition, the opponent must directly prove his own 

Eroposition in that sense, and according to that mem- 
er of the distinction in which the respondent denied it. 
XHl. The laws that oblige the respondent are these : 
1. To repeat the argument of the opponent in the 
very same words in wliich it was proposed, before he 
attempts to answer it. 

£. If the syllogism be false in the logical form of it, 
he must discover the fault according to the rules of 
logic. 

3. If the argument does not directly and effectually 
oppose his thesis, he must show this mistake, and make 
it appear that his thesis is safe, even though the argu- 
ment of the opponent be admitted ; or at least, that the 
argument does only aim at it collaterally, or at a 
distance, and not directly overthrow it, or conclude 
against it. x 

4. Where the matter of the opponent's objection is 
faulty in any part of it, the respondent must grant what is 
true in it, he must deny what is false, he must distinguish 
or limit the proposition which is ambiguous or doubt- 
ful ; and then granting the sense in which it is ti'ue, he 
must deny the sense in which it is false. 

5. If a hypothetic proposition be false, the respon* 



116 LMPROVEMENT 

(lent must deny the consequence ; if a disjunctive, he 
must deny the disjunction ; if a categoric or relative, 
]ae must simply deny it. 

6. It is sometimeg allowed for the respondent to use 
an indirect answer after he has answered directly ; and 
he may also show how the opponent's argument may 
be retorted against himself. 

XIV. The laws that oblige both disputants are these : 

1. Sometimes it is necessary there should be a men- 
tion of certain general principles, in which they both 
agree, relating to the question, that so they may not dis- 
pute on those things which either are or ought to have 
Deen first granted on both sides. 

2. When the state of the controversy is well known, 
and plainly determined and agreed, it must not be al- 
tered by either dsputant in the course of the disputa- 
tion ; and the respondent especially should keep a 
watchful eye on the opponent, in this matter. 

3. Let neither party invade the province of the other ; 
especially let the respondent take heed that he does not 
turn opponent, excei)t in retorting the argument upon 
his adversary after a direct response ; and even this rs 
allpwed only as an illustration or confirmation of his 
own response. 

4. Let each wait with jiatience till the other has done 
speaking. It is a piece of rudeness to interrupt another 
in his speech. 

Yet though the disputants have not this liberty, the 
moderator may do it, when either of the disputants 
break the rules, and he may interpose so far as to keep 
them in order. 

XV. It must be confessed, there are some advanta- 
ges to be attained by academical disputations. It gives 
vigour and briskness to the mind thus exercised, and 
relieves the languor of private study and meditation. 
It sharpens the wit and all the inventive powers. It 
makes the thoughts active, and sends them on all sides 
to find arguments and answers both for opposition and 
defence. It gives opportunity of viewing the subject 
of discourse on all sides, and of learning what incon- 
veniences, ditHculties, and objections, attend particu- 
lar opinions. It furnishes the soul with various occa- 

' aions of starting such thought^ as otherwise would 



OF THE MIND. 117 

never have come into the mind. It makes a student 
more expert in attacking and refuting an error, as 
well as in vindicating a truth. It instructs the scholar 
in the various methods of warding off the force of ob- 
jections, and of discovering and refelling the subtle 
tricks of sophisters. It procures also a freedom and 
readiness of speech, and raises the modest and diffident 
genius to a due degree of courage. '' 

XVI. But there are some very grievous inconvenien- 
ces that may sometimes overbalance all these advanta- 
ges. For many young students, by a constant habit 
of disputing, grow impudent and audacious, proud and 
disdainful, talkative and impertinent, and render them- 
selves intolerable by an obstinate humor of maintai ning 
whatever they have asserted, as well as by a spirit of 
contradiction, opposing almost everything that they 
hear. The disputation itself often awakens the passions 
of ambition, emulation, and anger ; it carries away the 
mind from that calm and sedate temper which is so 
necessary to contemplate truth. 

XVII. It is evident also, that by frequent exercises 
of this sort, wherein opinions true and false are argued, 

and refuted, on both sides, the mind of man 



supported, 
is led by ir 



by insensible degrees to an uncertain and fluctuat- 
ing temper, and falls into danger of a sceptical humour, 
which never comes to an establishment in any doctrines. 
Many persons by these means become much more ready 
to oppose whatsoever is offered in searching out truth ; 
they nardly wait till they have read or heard the sen- 
timent of any person, before their heads are busily em- 
ployed to seek out arguments against it. They grow 
naturallj sharp in finding out difficulties ; and by indul- 
ging this humour, they converse with the dark and 
doubtful parts of a subject so long, till they almost ren- 
der themselves incapable of receiving the full evidence 
of a proposition and acknowledging the light of truth. 
It has some tendency to make a youth a carping critic, 
rather than a judicious man. 

XVIII. 1 would add yet further, that in these dispu- 
tations the respondent is generally appointed to main- 
tain the supposed truth, that is, the tutor's opinion. But 
all the opponents are busy and warmly engaged in find- 
ing arguments against the truth. Now if a sprightly 



iia IMPROVEMENT 

young genius happens to imagine his argument so WP.ll 
as to puzzle and gravel the respondent, and perhaps to 
perplex the moderator a little too, he is soon tempted t© 
suppose his argument unanswerable, and the truth en- 
tirely to lie on his side. The pleasure which he takes 
in having found a sophism which has great appearances 
of reason, and which he himself has managed with snch 
success, becomes perhaps a strong prejudice to engage 
his inward sentiments in favour of his argument, and in 
opposition to the supposed truth. 

XIX. Yet perhaps it may be possible to reduce scho- 
lastic disputations under such a guard as may in some 
measure prevent most of the abuses of them, and the 
unhapjiy events that too often attend them ; for it is a 
pity that an exercise which has some valuable benefits 
attending it should be utterly thrown away, if it be 
possible to secure young mindis against the abuse of it ; 
for which purpose, some of these directions may seem 
proper : 

XX. General directions for scholastic disputes : 

1. Never dispute upon mere trifles, things that are 
utterly ciseless to be known, under a vain pretence of 
sharpening the wit ; for the same advantage may be 
derived from solid and useful subjects, and thus two 
happy ends may be attained at once. Or if such dis- 
putations are always thought dangerous in important 
matters, let them be utterly abandoned. 

£. Do not make infinite and unsearchable things the 
matter of dispute, nor such propositions as are made 
up of mere words without ideas, lest it lead young per- 
sons into a most unhappy habit of talking without a 
meaning, alid boldly to determine upon things that are 
hardly within the reach of human capacity. 

3. Let no obvious and known truths, or some of the 
most plain and certain propositions be bandied about 
in a disputation, for a mere trial of skill ; for he that 
opposes them in this manner will be in danger of con- 
tracting a habit of opposing all evidence, will acquire a 
spirit of contradiction, and pride himself in the power 
of resisting the brightest light, and fighting against the 
strongest proofs ; this will insensibly injure the mind, 
and tends greatly to an universal scepticism. 

Upon tire whole, therefore, the most proper stibjects 



OF THE MIND. 119 

of dispute seems to be, those questions \Yhich are not of 
the very highest importance and certainty, nor of the 
meanest and trifling kind ; but ratlier the intermediate 
questions between these two ; and there is a large suf- 
hciency of them in the sciences. But this I put as a 
mere proposal, to be determined by the more learned 
and prudent. 

4. It wouldjbe well if every dispute could be so ordered 
as to be a means of searching out truth, and not to gain 
a triumph. Then each disputant might come to the 
work without bias and prejudice, with a desire of truth, 
and not with ambition of glory and victory. 

Nor should the aim and design of the disputant be to 
avoid artfully and escape the difficulties which the op- 
])onent offers, but to discuss them thoroughly, and solve 
them fairly, if they are capable of being solved. 

Again, let the opponent be solicitous not to darken 
and confound the resbonses that are given him by fresh 
subtilities ; but let him bethink himself whether they 
are not a just answer to the objection, and be honestly 
ready to perceive and accept them, and yield to them. 

5. For this end let both the respondent and opponent 
use the clearest and most distinct and expressive lan- 
guage in which they can clothe their thoughts. Let 
them seek and practise brevity and perspicuity on both 
sides, without long declamations, tedious circumlocu- 
tions, and rhetorical flourishes. 

If there happen to be any doubt or obscurity on either 
side, let neither the one nor the other ever refuse to give 
a fair explication of the words they use. 

6. They should not indulge ridicule, either of persons 
or things, in their disputations. They should abstain 
from all banter and jest, laughter and merriment. 
These are things that break in upon that philosophical 
gravity, sedateness and serenity of tempe»', which 
ought to be observed in every search after truth. How- 
ever an argument on some subjects may be sometimes 
clothed with a little pleasantry, yet a jest or witticism 
should never be used instead of an argument, nor should 
it ever be suffered to pass for a real and solid proof. 

But especially if the subject be sacred or divin^e, and 
have nothing in it comical' or ridiculous, all ludicrous 
turns, and jocose or comical airs, should be entirely 
excluded, lest young minds become tinctured with a 



120 IMPROVEMENT 

silly and profane sort of ridicule, and learn to jest and 
trifle Avlth the awful solemnities of religion. 

7. Nor should sarcasm and reproach, or insolent 
language, ever be used amon^ fair disputants. Turn not 
off from things to speak of persons. Leave all noisy 
contests, all immodest clamours, brawling language, 
and especially all personal scandal and scurrility to the 
meanest part of the vulgar world. Let your manner 
be all candour and gentleness, patient and ready to 
hear, humblj'^ zealous to inform and be informed ; you 
should be free and pleasant in every ansAver and beha- 
viour, rather like well bred gentlemen in polite conver- 
sation, than like noisy and contentious wranglers. 

8. If the opponent sees victory to incline to his side> 
let him be content to show the force of his argument 
to the intelligent part of the company, without too 
importunate and petulent demands of an answer, and 
without insulting over his antagonist, or putting the 
modesty of the respondent to the blush. Nor let the 
respondent triumph over the opponent when he is silent 
and replies no more. On which side soever victory 
declares itself, let neither of them manage with sucn 
unpleasing and insolent airs, as to awaken those evil 
passions of pride, anger, shame, or resentment, on ei- 
ther side, which alienate the mind from truth, render 
it obstinate in the defence of an error, and never suffer 
it to part Avith any of its old opinions. 

In short, when truth evidently appears on either side, 
let them learn to yield to convictien. When either 
party is at a nonplus, let them confess the difficulty, 
and desire present assistance, or further time and re- 
tirement to consider of the matter, and not rack theip 
present invention to find out httle shifts to avoid the 
force and evidence of truth. 

9. Might it not be a fairer practice, in order to attain, 
the best ends of disputation, and to avoid some of the: 
ill effects of it, if the opponents were sometimes engaged 
on the side of truth, and produced their arguments in 
opposition to error ? And what if the respondent was 
appointed to support the error, and defend it as well 
as he could, till he was forced to yield, at least to those 
arguments of the opponents which appear to be really 
just, strong, and unanswerable? 

In this practice the thesis of the respondent should 



OF THE MIND. 121 

I only be a fair stating of the question, with some of the 
chief objections against the truth proposed and solved. 

Perhaps this practice might not so easily be perverted 
and abused to raise a cavilling, disputative, and sceptical 
temper in tlie minds of youth. 

I confess, iri this method which I now propose, there 
would be one amiong the students, viz. the respondent, 
always engaged in the sup,;ort of supposed error ; but 
all the rest would be exercising their talents in arguing 
for the supposed truth ; whereas, in the common 
methods of disputation in the schools, especially where 
the students are numerous, each single student is per- 
petually employed to oppose the truth, and vindicate 
error, except once in a long time, when it comes to his 
turn to be respondent. 

10. Upon the whole, it seems necessary that these 
methods of disputation should be learnt in the schools^ 
in order to teach students better to defend truth, and 
to refute error, both in writing and conversation, where 
the scholastic forms are utterly neglected. 

But after all, the advantage which youth may gain 
by disputation depends much on the tutor or modera- 
tor ; he should manage with such prudence, both in 
the disputation and at the end of it, as to make all the 
disputants knoAv the very point of controversy wherein 
it consists ; he should manifest the fallacy of sophistical 
objections, and confirm the solid arguments and an- 
swers. This might teach students how to make the 
art of disputation useful for the searching out the truth 
and the defence of it, that it may not be learned and 
practised only as an art of wrangling, which reigned in 
the schools several hundred years, and divested the 
growing reason of youth of its best hopes and im- 
provements. 

CHAP. XIV. 

Of Study, or Meditation. 

I. It has been proved and established in some of the 
foregoing chapters, that neither our own observations, 
nor our reading the labours of the learned, nor the 
attendance on the best lectures of instruction, nor en-i 
joying the brightest conversation, can ever make a 
I4 



U2 IMPROVEMEJST 

man truly knowing and wise, without the labours of 
his own reason in surveying, examining, and judging, i 
concerning aJl subjects, upon the best evidence he can 
acquire. A good genius, or sagacity of thought, a hap- 
py judgunent, a capacious memory, and large oppor- 
runities of observation and converse, will do much of 
themselves toward the cultivation of the mind, where 
they are wdl improved ; but where, to the advantage 
of learned lectures, living instructions, and well chosen 
books, diligence and study are superadded, this man 
has all human aids concurring to raise him to a supe- 
rior degree of wisdom and knowledge. 

Under the preceeding heads of discourse, it has been 
already declared how our own meditation and reflec- 
tion should examine, cultivate, and improve, all other 
methods and advantages of enric^iing the undei'stand- 
ing. What remains in this chapter, is to give some 
further occasional hints how to employ our own 
thoughts, what sort of subjects we should meditate on, 
and in what manner we should regulate our studies, 
and how we may improve our judgment, so as in the 
most effectual and compendious way to attain such 
knowledge as may be most useful for every man in his 
circumstances of life, and particularly for those of the 
learned, professions. 

II. The first direction for youth is this, learn be- 
times to distinguish between words and things. Get 
clear and plain ideas of the things you are set to study. 
Do not content yourselves with mere words and names, 
lest your laboured improvements only amass a heap of 
unintelligible phrases, and you feed upon husks instead 
of kernels. This rule is of unknown use in evdry sci- 
ence. 

But the greatest and most common danger, is in the 
sacred science of theology, where settled terms and 
phrases have been pronounced divine and orthoJox, 
■which jet have had no meaning in them. The scho- 
lastic divinity would furnish us with numerous instan- 
ces of this folly ; and yet for many ages, all truth and 
all heresy have been determined' by such senseless 
tests, and by words without ideas ; such Shibboleth's 
as these have decided the secular fates of men ; and 
bishoprics, or burning mitres, or faggots, have been 
the rewards of different persons, according as they 



OF THE MIND. Iii3 

pronounced these consecrated syllables, or not pro- 
nounced tlifiin. To defend them was all piety, and 
pomp, and triumph ; to despise them, to doubt or deny 
them, was torture and death. A thousand thank offer- 
ings are due to that Providence, which has delivered 
our age and our nation from these absurd iniquities ! 
O that every specimen and shadow of this madness 
were banished from our schools and churches in every 
shape ! 

III. Let not young students apply themselves to 
search out deep, dark, and abstruse matters, far above 
their reach, or spend their labour in any peculiar sub- 
jects, for which they have not the advantages of ne- 
cessary antecedent learning, or books, or observations. 
Let them not be too hasty to know things above their 
present powers, nor plunge their incjuiries at once into 
the depths of knowledge, nor begin to study any sci- 
ence in the middle of it ; this will confound rather than 
enlighten the understanding ; such practices may hap- 
pen to discourage and jade the mind by an attempt 
above its power, it may balk the understanding, and 
create an aversion to future diligence, and perhaps by 
despair may forbid the pursuit of that subject forever 
afterwards ; as a limb overstrained by lifting a weij^ht 
above its power^ may never recover its former agility 
and vigour ; or if it does, the man may be frighted 
from ever exerting its strength again. 

IV. Nor yet let any student on the other hand, frijjht 
himself at every turn with un surmountable difficulties, 
nor imagine that the truth is wrapt up in impenetrable 
darkness. These are formidable spectres which the 
understanding raises sometimes to flatter its own lazi- 
ness. Those things which, in a remote and confused 
view, seem very obscure and perplexed, may be ap- 
proached by gentle and regular steps, and may then 
unfold and explain themselves at large to the eye. The 
hardest problems in geometry, and the most intricate 
schemes or diagrams, may be explicated and under- 
stood step by step ; every great mathematician bears 
a constant witness to this observation. 

V. In learning any new thing, there should be as lit- 
tle as {possible first proposed to the mind at once, and 
that being understood and fully mastered, proceed then 
to the next adjoining part yet unknown. This is a slow, 



Ui IMPROVEMENT 

but safe and sure v/ay to arrive at knowledge. If the 
mind apply itself at first to easier subjects, and things 
near akin to what is already known, and then advance 
to the more remote and knotty parts of knowledge by 
slow degrees, it would be able in this manner to cope 
with great difficulties, and prevail over them with a- 
mazing and happy success. 

Mathon happened to dip into the two last chapters 
of a new book of geometry and mennsuration as so»n 
as he saw it, and was frighted with the complicated 
diagrams which he found there, about the frustums of 
cones and pyramids, &c. and some deep demonstrations 
among conic sections ; he shut the book again in des- 
pair, and imagined none but a Sir Isaac Newton was 
ever fit to read it. But his tutor happily persuaded 
him to begin the first pages about lines and angles, and 
he found such surprising pleasure in three weeks time 
in the victories he daily obtained, that at last he became 
one of the chief geometers of his age. 

VI. Engage not the mind in the intense pursuit of 
too many thmgs at once ; especially such as have no 
relation to one another. This will be ready to distract 
the understanding, and hinder it from attaining perfec- 
tion in any one subject of study. Such a practice gives 
a slight smattering of several sciences, without any solid 
and substantial knowledge of them, and without any 
real and valuable improvement ; and though two or 
three sorts of study may be usually carried on at once, 
to entertain the mind with variety, that it may not be 
over tired with one sort of thoughts ; yet a multitude 
of subjects will too much distract the attention, and 
weaken the application of the mind to any one of them. 
Where two or three sciences are pursued at the same 
time, if one of them be dry, abstracted, and unpleasant, 
as logic, metaphysics, law, languages, let another be 
more entertaining and agreeable, to secure the mind 
from weariness and aversion to study. Delight should 
be intermingled with labour as far as possible, to allure 
us to bear the fatigue of dry studies the better. Poe- 
try, practical mathematics, history, &.c. are generally 
esteemed entertaining studies, and may be happily used 
for this purpose. Thus Avhile we relieve a dull and 
heavy hour by some alluring employments of the 
mind, our very diversions enrich our understandings, 
and our pleasure is turned into profit. 



OF THE MIND. 125 

VII. In the pursuit of every valuable subject of 
knowledge, keep the end always in your eye, and beno^ 
diverted from it by every petty trifle you meet with in 
the way. Some persons have such a wandering genius, 
that they are ready to pursue every incidental theme 
or occasional idea, till th«y have lost sight of their 
original subject. These are the men who, Avhen they 
are engaged in conversation, prolong their story by 
dwelling on every incident, and swell their narrative 
with long parentheses, till they have lost their first 
design ; like a man who is sent in quest of some great 
treasure, but he steps aside to gather every flower he 
finds, or stands still to dig up every shining pebble he 
meets with in his way, till the treasure is forgotten and 
never found. 

VIII. Exert your care, skill, and diligence, about 
every subject and every question in a just proportion 
to the importance of it, together with "the danger and 
bad consequences of ignorance or error therein. Many 
excellent advantages flow from this one direction. 

L This rule will teach you to be very careful in 
gaining some general and fundamental truths in philoso- 
phy, in religion, and in human life ; because they are 
of the highest moment, and conduct our thoughts with 
ease into a thousand inferior and particular propositions. 
Such is that great principle in natural philosophy, the 
doctrine of gravitation, or mutual tendency of all bodies 
towards each other, which Sir Isaac Newton has so 
well established, and from which he has drawn the 
solution of a multitude of appearances in the heavenly 
bodies as well as on earth. 

Such is that golden principle of morality which our 
blessed Lord has given us, " Do that to others which 
you think ]ust and reasonable that others should do to 
you ;" which is almost sufficient in itself to solve all 
cases of conscience which lelate to our neighbour. 

Such are those principles in religion, that a rational 
creature is accountable to his Maker for all his actions ; 
that the soul of man is immortal ; that there is a future 
state of happiness and of misery depending on our 
behaviour in the present life, on which all our religious 
practices are built or supported. 

We should be very curious in examining all proposi- 
tions that pretend to this honour of being, general 
Ij 2 ^ 



126 IMPROVEMENT 

principles ; and we should not without just evidence ad- 
mit into this rank mere matters of common fame, or 
commonly received opinions ; no, nor the general de- 
terminations of the learned, or the estabhshed articles 
of any church ornation, Sic. for there are many learned 
presumptions, many synodical and national mistakes, 
many established falsehoods, as well as many vulgar 
errors, wherein multitudes of men have followed one 
another for whole ages almost blindfold. It is of great 
importance for every manto be careful that these general 
principles are just and true ; for one error may lead us 
mto thousands', which will naturally follow, if once a 
leading falsehood be admitted. 

2. This rule will direct us to be more careful aboui 
practical points than mere speculations, since they are 
commonly of much greater use and consequence ; 
therefore the speculations of algebra, the doctrine of 
infinities, and the quadrature of curves in mathematical 
learning, together with all the train of theorems in na- 
tural philosophj', should by no means intrench upon 
our studies of morality and virtue. Even in the science 
of divinity itself, the sublimest speculations of it are not 
of that worth and value, as the rules of duty towards 
God and towards man. 

3. In matters of practice we should be most careful 
to fix our end right, and Avisely determine the scone at 
which we aim ; because that is to direct us in the crioice 
and use of all the means to attain it. If our end be 
wrong, all our labour in the means will be vain, or per- 
haps so much the more pernicious, as they are better 
suited to attain that mistaken end. If mere sensible 
pleasure, or human grandeur, or wealth, be our chief end, 
we should choose means contrary to piety and virtue, 
and proceed apace to vvard real misery. 

4. This rule will engage our best powers and deepest 
attention in the affairs of religion, and things that re- 
late to a future world ; for those propositions which ex- 
tend only to the interest of the present life, are but of 
small importance when compared with those that have 
influence upon our everlasting concerjuiients, 

5. And even in the affairs of religion, if we walk by 
the conduct of this rule, we shall be much more labori- 
ous in our inq^uiries into the necessary and fundamental 
articles of faith and practice than the lesser appendicea 



OP THE MIND. 127 

of Christianity. The doctrines of repentance towards 
God, faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, with love to men 
and universal holiness, will employ our best and bright- 
est hours and meditations ; while the mint, annise, and 
cummin, the gestures, vestures, and fringes of religion, 
will be regarded no further than they have a plain and 
evident connexion with faith and love, with holiness 
and peace. 

6. This rule will make us solicitous not only to avoid 
such errors, whose influence will spread wide into the 
whole scheme of our own knowledge and practice, and 
such mistakes whose influence would be yet more exten- 
sive and injurious to others, as well as to ourselves ; per- 
haps to many persons or many families ; to a whole 
church, a town, a country,' or a kingdom. Upon this ac- 
count, persons who are called to instruct others, who are 
raised to any eminence either in church or state, ought 
to be careful in settling their principles in matters rela- 
ting to the civil, the moral, or the religious life, lest a 
mistake of theirs should diffuse wide mischief, should 
draw along with it most pernicious consequences, and 
perhaps extend to following generations. 

These are some of the advantages which arise from 
the eighth rule, viz. Pursue every inquiry and study in 
proportion to itsfeal value and importance. 

IX. Have a care lest some beloved notion, or some 
darling science, so far prevail over your mind, as to give 
a sovereign tincture to all your other studies, and dis- 
colour all your ideas ; like a person in the jaundice, 
who spreads a yellow scene with his eyes over all the 
objects which he meets. 1 have known a man of pe- 
culiar skill in music, and much devoted to that science, 
who found out a great resemblance of the Athanasian 
doctrine of the Trinity in every single note, and he 
thought it carried something of argument in it to prove 
that doctrine. I have read of another, who accommo- 
dated the seven days of the first week of creation to 
seven notes of music, and thus the whole creation 
become harmonious. 

Under this influence, derived from mathematical stu- 
dies, some have been tempted to cast all their logical, 
their metaphysical, and their theological, and moral 
learning into the method of mathematicians, and bring 
every thing relating to the abstracted, or those prac- 



128 IMPROV^EMENT 

fical sciences, under theorems, problems, postulates, 
scholiums, corollaries, kc. whereas the matter ought 
always to direct the method ; for all subjects or matters 
of thought, cannot be moulded or subdued to one form. 
Neither the rules for the conduct of the understanding, 
nor the docliines nor the duties of religion and virtue, 
can be exhibited naturally in figures and diagrams. 
Things are so to be considered as they are in themselves ; 
their natures are in flexible, and their natural relations 
unalterable ; and therefore, in order to conceive them 
aright, we must bring our undefstandings to things, and 
not pretend to bend and strain things to comport with 
Our lai^cies and forms. 

X. Suifer not any beloved study to prejudice your 
mind so far in favour of it as to despise all other learn- 
ing. This is a fault of some little souls who have got a 
smattering of astronomy, chemistry, metaphysics, his- 
tory, Uc. and for want of a due acquaintance with 
other sciences, make a scoff at them all in comparison of 
their favourite science. Their understandings are hereby 
cooped up in narrow bounds, so that they never Iook 
abroad into other provinces of the intellectual world, 
which are more beautiful perhaps, and more fruitful 
than their own ; if they would search a little into other 
sciences, they might not only find treasures of new 
knowledge, but might be furnished also with rich hints 
of thought, and glorious assistances to cultivate that 
very province to which they have confined themselves. 
Here I would always give some grains of allowance 
to the sacred science of theology, which is incomparably 
superior to all the rest, as it teaches us the knowledge 
of God, and the way to his eternal favour. This is 
that noble study which is every man's duty, and every 
one who can be called a rational creature is capable of 
it. This is that science which would truly enlarge the 
minds of men, were it studied with that freedom, that 
unbiassed love of truth, and that sacred charity which 
it teaches ; and if it were not made, contrary to its own 
nature, the occasion of strife, faction, malignity, a 
narrow spirit and unreasonable impositions on the mind 
and practice. Let this therefore stand always chief. 

Xl. Let evcy particular study have due and proper 
time assigned it, and let not a favourite science prevail 
with you to lay out such hours upon it as ought to be 
employe/dupon the more nectssary andmore iinportar/ 



OF THE MIND,. 129 

aSairs or studies of your profession. When you have, 
according to the best of your discretion, and according 
to the circumstances of your Hfe, fixed proper hours 
for particular studies, endeavour to keep to those rules ; 
not, indeed with a superstitious preciseness, but with 
some good degrees of a regular constancy. Order and 
method in a course of study saves much time, and 
mak:«s large improvements ; such a fixation of certain 
hours will have a happy influence to secure you from 
trifling and wasting away your minutes in impertinence. 

XII. Do not apply yourself to any one study at one 
time longer than the mind is capable of giving a close 
attention to it without weariness or wandering. Do 
not over fatigue the spirits at any time, lest the mind 
he seized with a lassitude, and thereby be tempted to 
nauseate and grow tired of a particular subject before 
you have finished it. 

XIII. In the beginning of your application to any new 
subject be not too uneasy under present difficulties that 
occur, nor too importunate and impatient for answers 
and solutions to any questions that arise. Perhaps a 
Kttle more study, a little further acquaintance with the 
subject, a little time and experience, will solve those 
difficulties, untie the knot, and make your doubts van* 
ish ; especially if you ai*e under the instruction of a 
tutor, he can inform you that your inquiries are perhaps 
too early, and that you have not yet learned those 
principles upon whicn the solution of such a difficulty 
depends. 

XIV. Do not expect to arrive at certainty in every 
subject which you pursue. There are a hundred things 
wherein we mortals in this dark and imperfect stat« 
must be content with probabilily, where our best light 
and reasonings will reach no further. We must balance 
arguments as justly as we can, and where Ave cannot 
find weight enough on either side to determine the 
scale with sovereign force and assurance, we must con- 
tent ourselves perhaps with a small preponderation. 
This will give us a probable opinion, and those probabili- 
ties are sufficient for the daily determination of a 
thousand actions in human life, and many times even in 
matters of religion. 

It is admirably well expressed by a late writer, " When 
there is a great strength of argument set before us, if 



S30 IMPROVEMENT 

-vve will refuse to do what appears most fit for us, until ^ 
every little objection be removed, wc shall never take 
one wise resolution as long as we live." 

Suppose 1 had been honestly and long searching 
what religion I should choose, and yet I could not find 
that the arguments in defence of Christianity arose to 
complete certainty, but went only so far as to give me 
a probable evidence of the truth of it ; though many 
difficulties still remained, yet I should think myself 
obliged to receive and practice that religion ; for the 
'Godof nature and reason has bound us to assent, and act 
according to the best evidence we have, even though k 
be not absolute and complete ; and as he is our supreme 
Judge his abounding goodness and equity will approve 
and acquit the man whose conscience honestly and wil- 
lingly seeks the best light, and obeys it as far as he can 
discover it. 

But in matters of great importance in religion, let 
him join all due diligence with earnest and humble 
prayer for divine aid in his inquiries ; such prayer and 
such dihgence as eternal concerns require, and such as 
he may plead with courage before the Judge of all. 

XV. Endeavour to apply every speculative study, 
as far as possible, to some practical use, that both 
yourself and others may be the better for it. Inqui- 
ries even in natural philosophy should not be mere 
amusements, and much less in the affairs of religion. 
Researches into the springs of natural bodies and their 
motions should lead men to invent happy methods for 
the ease and convenience of human life; or at least 
they should be improved to awaken us to admire the 
wondrous wisdom and contrivnnce of God our Cre- 
ator, in all the works of nature. 

If we pursue mathematical speculations, they will 
inure us to attend closely to any subject, to seek and 
^ain clear ideas, to distinguish truth fi-om falsehood, to 
judge justly, and to argue strongly ; and these studies 
do more directly furnish us with all the various rules 
of those useful arts of life, viz. measuring, building, 
sailing, kc. 

Even our inquiries and disputations about vacuum or 
space, and atoms, about incommensurable quantities, 
and infinite divisibility of matter, and eternal duration, 
which seem to be purely speculative, will show us some 
good practical lessons, will lead us to see the weakness 



OP THE MIND. m 

of our nature, and should teach us humility in arguing 
upon divine subjects and matters of sacred revelation. 
This should guard us against rejecting any doctrine 
which is expressly and evidently revealed, though we 
cannot fully understand it. It is good sometimes to 
lose and bewilder ourselves in such studies for this very 
reason, and to attain this practical advjintage, this im- 
provement in true modesty of spirit. 

XVI. Though we should always be ready to change 
our sentiments of things upon just conviction of their 
falsehood, yet there is not the same necessity of chang- 
ing our accustomed methods of reading, or study and 
practice, even though we have not been led at first into 
the happiest method. Our thoughts may be true, 
though we may have hit upon an improper order of 
thinking. Truth does not always depend upon the 
most convenient method. There may be a certain 
form and order in which we have lon^ accustomed our- 
selves to range our ideas and notions, which may 
be best for us now, though it was not originally best in 
itself. The inconveniences of changing may be much 
greater than the conveniences we could obtain by a 
new method. 

As for instance ; if a man in his younger days has 
ranged all his sentiments in theology in the method of 
Ames' Bledulla Theologiae, or Bishop Usher's body of 
Divinity, it may be much more natural and easy for 
him to continue to dispose all his further acquirements 
in the same order, though perhaps neither of those 
treatises are in themselves written in the most perfect 
method. So when we have long fixed our cases of 
shelves in a library, and ranged our books in any par- 
ticular order, viz. according to their languages, or 
according to their subjects, or according to the alpha- 
betical names of the authors, &.c. we are perfectly well 
acquainted with the or^er in which they now stand, 
and we can find any particular book which we seek, or 
add a new book which we have purchased with much 
greater ease than we can do in finer cases of shelves, 
where the books are ranged in any different manner 
whatsoever ; any different position of the volumes 
would be new, and strange, and troublesome to us, and 
would not countervail the inconveniences of a change. 
So if a man of forty j'ears old has been taught to 



im IMPROVEMENT 

hold his pen awkwardly in his youth, and yet writes 
sufficiently well for all the purposes of his station, it is 
not worth while to teach him now the most accurate- 
methods of handling that instrument ; for this would 
create him more trouble without equal advantage, 
and perhaps he might never attain to write better after 
he has placed his hngers perfectly right with this new 
accuracy. 

CHAP. XV. 

Of Fixing the Attention. 

A STUDENT should labour by all proper methods 
to acquire a steady fixation of thought. Attention is a 
verynecessary thing in order to improve our minds. The 
evidence of truth does not always appear immediately, 
nor strike the soul at first sight. It is by long attention 
and inspection that we arrive at evidence, and it is for 
want of it we judge falsely of many things. We make 
haste to determine upon a slight and a sudden view, we 
confirm our guesses which arise from a glance, we pass 
a judgment while we have but a confused or obscure 
perception, and thus plunge ourselves into mistakes. 
This is like a man, who walking in a mist, or being at 
a great distance from any visible object, (suppose a tree, 
a man, a horse, or a church,) judges much amiss of the 
figure and situation and colours of it, and sometimes 
takes one for the other ; whereas if he would but 
withhold his judgment till he come nearer to it, or to 
stay till clearer light comes, and then Avould fix his eyes 
longer upon it, he would secure himself from those 
mistakes. 

Now, in order to gain a greater facility of attention, 
we may observe these rules : 

I. Get a good liking to the study or knowledge you 
would pursue. We may observe, that there is not 
much difficulty in confiniiig the mind to contemptate 
what we have a great desire to know ; and especially 
if they are matters of sense, or ideas which paint 
themselves upon the fancy. It is but acquiring an hear- 
ty good will and resolution to search out and survey 
the various {)roperties and part? of such objects, and 
our attention will be engaged if there be any delight c-r 



OF THE MIND. 13$ 

diversion in the study or contemplation of them. 
Theiefore mathematical studies have a strange influence 
towards fixing the attention of the mind, and giving a. 
steadiness to a wandering disposition, hecause they deal 
much in lines, figures, and numbers ; which affect and 
please the sense and imagination. Histories have a 
strong tendency the same way, for they engage the 
soul by a variety of sensible occurences ; when it hath 
begun it knows not how to leave off; it longs to know 
the final event, through a natural curiosity that belongs 
to mankind. Voyages and travels, and accounts of 
strange countries and strange appearances, will assist in 
this work. This sort of study detains the mind by the 
perpetual occurrence and expectation of something new, 
and that which may gratefully strike the imagination. 

H. Sometimes we may make use of sensible things 
and corporeal images for the illustration of those notions 
which are more abstracted and intellectual. Therefore 
diagrams greatly assist the mind in astronomy and 

})hilosophy ; and the emblems of virtues and vices may 
lappily teach children, and pleasingly impress those 
useful moral ideas" on youn^ minds, which perhaps 
might be conveyed to them with much more difficulty 
by mere moral and abstracted discourses. 

I confess, in this practice of representing moral sub- 
jects by pictures, we should be cautious lest we so far 
immerse the mind in corporeal images, as to render it 
unfit to take in an abstracted and intellectual idea, or 
cause it to form wrong conceptions of immaterial things. 
This practice therefore, is rather to be used at first in 
order to get a fixed habit of attention, and in some 
cases only ; but it can never be our constant way and 
method of pursuing all moral, abstracted, and spiritual 
themes. 

ni. Apply yourself to those studies, and read those 
authors who draw out their subjects into a perpetual 
chain of connected reasonings, wherein the following 
parts of the discourse are naturally and easily derived 
from those which go before. Several of the mathe- 
matical sciences, if not all, are happily useful for this 
purpose. This will render the labour of study delight- 
ful to a rational, mind, and will fix the powers of the 
understanding with strong attention to their proper 
operations by the very pleasure of it. Labor ipse vo^ 
M 



134 IMPROVEMENT 

luptaSf is a happy proposition wheresoever it can be, 
applied. 

iV. Do not choose your constant place of study by 
the finery of the prospects, or the most various and 
entertaining scenes of sensible things. Too much light, 
or a variety of objects which strike the eye, or the ear, 
especially while they are ever in motion, or often chang- 
ing, have a natural and powerful tendeucy to steal away 
the mind too often, from its steady pursuit of any sub- 
ject which we contemplate ; and thereby the soul gets 
a habit of silly curiosity and impertinence, of trifling 
and wandering. Vagerio thought himself furnished 
with the best closet for his study among the beauties, 
gaieties, and diversions of Kensington or Hampton 
Court ; but after seven years professing to pursue learn- 
ing, he was a mere novice still. 

V. Be not in too much haste to come to the deter- 
mination of a difficult or important point. Think it 
worth your waiting to find out truth. Do not give 
your assent up to either side of a question too soon, 
merely on this account, that the study of it is long and 
difficult. Rather be contented with ignorance for a sea- 
son, and continue in suspense till your attention, and 
meditation, and due labour, have found out sufficient 
evidence on one side. Some are so fond to know a 
great deal at once, and love to talk of things with free- 
dom and boldness before they thoroughly understand 
them, that they scarcely ever allow themselves atten- 
tion enough to search the matter through and through. 

VL Have a care of indulging the more sensual pas- 
sions and appetites of animal nature ; they are great 
enemies to attention. Let not the mind of a student 
be under the influence of any warm affection to things 
of sense when he comes to engage in the search of 
truth or the improvement of his understanding. A 
person under the power of love, or fear, or anger, great 
pain, or deep sorrow, hath so little government of his 
soul, that he cannot keep it attentive to the proper 
subject of his meditation. The passions call away 
the thoughts with incessant importunity towards 
the object that excited them ; and if we indulge the 
frequent rise and roving of passions, we shall thereby 
procure an unsteady and inattentive habit of mind. 

Yet this one exception must be admitted, viz If we 



OF THE MIND. 135 

can be so iiappy as to engage any ]3assion of the soul on 
tliG side of t!ie particular study which we are pursuing, 
it may have great influence to fix the attention more 
stron^ily to it. 

Vli. It is therefore very useful to fix and engage 
the mind in the pursuit of any study, by a consideration 
of the divine pleasures of truth and knowledge, by a 
aense of our duty to God, by a delight in the exercise of 
our intellectual fcicultics, by the hope of future service 
to our fellow creatures, and glorious advantage to our- 
selves, both in this Avorld and that which is to come. 
These thoughts, though they may move our affections, 
yet they do it with a proper influence ; these will rather 
assist and promote our attention than disturb or divert 
it from the subject of our present and proper medita- 
tions. A soul inspired with the fondest love of truth, 
and the warmest aspirations after sincere felicity and 
celestial beatitude, will keep all its powers attentive to 
the incessant pursuit of them ; passion is then refined 
and consecrated to its divinest purposes. 

CHAP. XVI. 

Of Enlarging the Capacity of the Mind. 

X HERE are three things which in an especial manner 
go to make up that amplitude or capacity of mind, which 
is one of the noblest characters belonging to the under- 
standing ; (1.) When the mind is ready to take in great 
and sublime ideas without pain or difficulty. (£.) When 
the mind is free to receive new and strange ideas, upon 
just evidence, without great surprise or aversion. (3.) 
'When the mind is able to conceive or survey many ideas 
at once without confusion, and to form a true judgment 
derived from that extensive survey. The person who 
wants either of these characters, m^ in that respect be 
said to have a mirrow genius. Let us diffuse our 
meditations a little upon this subject. 

I. That is an ample and capacious mind which isread^ 
to take in vast and sublime ideas without pain or diffi- 
culty. Persons who have never been used to converse 
with any thing but the common, little, and obvious af- 
fairs of life, have acquired a narrow or contracted habit 
of soul, that they are not able to stretch their intellects 



13S IMPROVEMENT 

wide enough to admit large and noble thoughts ; they 
are ready to make their domestic, daily, and familiar 
images of things, the measure of all that is, and all that 
can be. 

Talk to them of the vast dimensions of the planetary 
worlds ; tell them that the star called Jupiter is a solid 
globe, two hundred and twenty times bigger than our 
earth ; that the sun is a vast globe of fire above a thou- 
sand times bigger than Jupiter ; and that is t\vo hun- 
dred and twenty thousand times bigger than the earth ; 
that the distance from the earth to the sun is eighty- 
one millions of miles ; and that a cannon bullet shot 
froln the earth would not arrive at the nearest of the 
fixed stars in some hundred of years ; they cannot bear 
the belief of it, but hear all tJhese glorious labours of 
astronomy as a mere idle romance. 

Inform them of the amazing swiftness of the motion 
of some of the smallest or the biggest bodies in nature ; 
assure them, according to the best philosophy, that the 
planet Venus, i. e. our morning or evening star, which 
IS near as big as our earth,) though it seems to move 
from its place but a few yards in a month, does really 
fly seventy thousand miles in an hour ; tell them that 
the rays of light shoot from the sun to our earth at the 
rate of one hundred and eighty thousand miles in the 
second of a minute ; they stand aghast at such sort of 
talk, and beJieve it no more than the tales of giants fifty 
yards high, and the rabbinical fables of Leviathan, who 
every day swallows a fish of three miles long, and is 
thus preparing himself to be the food and entertainment 
of the blessed at the feast of Paradise. 

These unenlarged souls are in the same manner dis- 
gusted with the wonders which the miscroscope has 
discovered concerning the shape, the limbs and motions 
often thousand little animals, whose united bulk would 
not equal a peppercorn ; they are ready to give the lie 
to all the improvements of our senses by the invention 
ofa variety of glasses, and will scarcely believe any thing 
beyond the testimony of their naked eye, without the 
assistance of art. 

Now if we would attempt in a learned manner to 
relieve the minds that labour under this defect : 

(1.) It is useful to begin with some first principles of 
geoiaetry, and lead them onward by degrees to the 



OF THE MIND- 137 

doctrine of quantities which are incommensurable, or 
v^hich will admit of no common measure, though it be 
never so small. By this mean thej will see the neces- 
sity of admitting the infinite divisibility of quantity or 
matter. 

This same doctrine may also be proved to their un- 
der^andings, and almost to their senses, by some easier 
arguments in a more obvious manner. As the very 
opening and closing of a pair of compasses will evident- 
ly prove, that if the smallest supposed part of matter 
and quantity, be put between the j)oints, theie will be 
still less and less distances or quantities all the way be- 
tAveen the legs, till they come to the head or joint ; 
wherefore there is no such thing possible as the smallest- 
({uantity. But a little acquaintance with true philoso- 
phy and mathematical learning would soon teach them^ 
that there are no limits either as to the extension of 
space, or to the division of body, and would lead them 
to believe there are bodies amazingly great or small be- 
5'ond their present imagination. 

(2.) It is proper also to acquaint them with the cir- 
cumierence of our earth, which may be proved by very 
easy principles of geometry, geography, and astronomy, 
to be about twenty four thousand miles round, as it has 
been actually found to have this dimension by mariners 
who have sailed round it. Then let them be taught, 
that in every twenty four hours, either the su»i and stars 
must all move round this earth, or the earth must turn 
round upon its own axis. If the earth itself revolves 
thus, then each house or mountain near the equator, 
must move at the rate of a thousand miles in an hour; 
butif (as they generally suppose) the sun or stars mcve 
round the earth, then (the circumference of their several 
orbits or spheres being vastly greater than this earth) 
they must have a motion prodigiously swifter than a 
thousand miles an hour. Such a thought as this will 
by degrees enlarge their minds ; and they will be taught, 
even upon their own principle of the diurnal revolutions 
of the heavens, to take in some of the vast dimensions 
of the heavenly bodies, their spaces and motions. 

(3.) To this should be added the use of telescopes, 

to help them to see the distant wonders in the skies ; 

and microscopes, which discover the minutest parts of 

little animals^ and reveal some of the finer and mort 

M 2 



IS8 IMPROVEMENT 

curious works of nature. They should be acquainted 
also with some other noble inventions of modern phi- 
losophy, which have a great influence to enlarge the 
human understanding, of which I shall take occasion 
to speak more under the next head. 

(4.) For the same purpose they may be invited to 
read those parts of Milton's admirable poem entitled 
Paradise Lost, where he describes the armies and 
powers of angels, the wars and the senate of devils, 
the creation of this earth, together with the descriptions 
of, heaven, hell, and paradise. 

It must be granted that poesy often deals in these 
vast and sublime ideas. And even If the subject or 
matter of the poem doth not require such amazing and 
extensive thoughts, yet tropes and figures, which are 
some of the main powers and beauties of poesy, do so 
gloriously exalt the matter, as to give a sublime imagina- 
tion its proper relish and delight. 

So when a boar is chased in hunting, 

His nostrils flames expire, 

And his red eye balls roll with living fire. Dryden, 

When Ulysses withholds and suppresses his resentment, 

His Vv'rath comprest, 

Recoiling, mutter'd thunder in his breast. Pope. 

But especially where the subject is grand, the poet 
fails not to represent it in all its "grandeur. 

So when the supremacy of a God is described : 

He sees with equal eye, as God of all, 

A hero perish, or a sparrow fall ; 

Atoms or systems into ruin hurl'd ; 

And now a bubble burst, and now a world. Pope. 

These sorts of writing have a natural tendency to 
enlarge the capacity of the mind, and make sublime 
ideas familiar to it. And instead of running always 
to the ancient Heathen poesy with this design, we may 
with equal, if not superior advantage, apply ourselves 
to converse with some of the best of our modern poets, 
as well as with the writings of the prophets, and the 
poetical parts of the Bible, viz. the book of Job and 
the Psalms, in which sacred authors we shall find some- 
times more sublime ideas, more glorious descriptions, 
more elevated language, than the fondest critics have 



OF THE MIND. 139 

ever found in any of the Heathen versifiers either of 
Greece or Rome ; for the eastern writers use and allow 
much stronger figures and tropes than the western. 

Now there are many great and sacred advantages to 
be derived from this sort of enlargviment of the rnind. 

It will lead us into more exalted apprehensions of the 
great God our Creator than ever we had before. It 
will entertain our thoughts with holy wonder and 
amazement, while we contemplate that Being who 
created these various works of surprising greatness and 
surprizing smallness ; who has dispbyed most incon- 
ceivable wisdom in the contrivance .of oil the parts, 
powers, and motions of these little animals, invisible 
to the naked eye ; who has manifested a most divine 
extent of knowledge, power, and greatness, in forminp:^ 
moving, and managing the most extensive bulk of the 
heavenly bodies, and in surveying and comprehending 
all those immeasurable spaces in which they move. 
Fancy, with all her images, is fatigued and overwhelmed 
in following the planetary worlds through such immense 
stages, such astonishing journies as these are, and 
resigns its place to the pure intellect, which learns by 
degrees to take in such ideas as these, and to adore its 
Creator with new and sublime devotion. 

And not only are We taught to form juster ideas of 
the great God bj^ these methods, but this enlargement 
of the mind carries ue on to nobler conceptions of his 
intelligent creatures. The mind that deals only in 
vulgar and common ideas, is ready to imagine the 
nature and powers of man to come something too near 
to God his Maker, becaufee we do not see or sensibly 
converse with any beings superior to ourselves. But 
when the soul has obtained a greater amplitude of 
thought, it will not then immediately pronounce every 
thing to be God which is above man. It then learns to 
suppose there may be as many various ranks of beings 
in the invisible world, in a constant gradation superior 
us, as we ourselves are superior to all the ranks of be- 
ings beneath us in this visible world ; even though we 
descend downward far below the ant and the worm, 
the snail and the oyster, to the least and to the dullest 
animate atoms which are discovered to us by micros- 
copes. 

By this means we shall be able to suppose what pro- 
digious power angels, whether good or bad, must bo 



140 IMPROVEMENT 

furnished with, and prodigious knowledge, in order to 
oversee the realms of Persia and Graecia of old, or if 
any such superintended the affairs of Great Britain, 
France, Ireland, Germany, &t,c. in our days: What 
power and speed is necessary to destroy one hundred 
and eighty live thousand armed men in one night in the 
Assyrian camp of Sennacherib, and all the first born in 
the land of Egypt in another, both which are attributed 
to an angel. 

By these steps we shall ascend to form more just 
ideas of the knowledge and grandeur, the power and 
glory, of the Man Jesus Christ, who is intimately uni- 
ted to God, and is one with him. Doubtless he is fur- 
nished with superior powers to all the angels in heaven, 
because he is employed in superior work, and appointed 
to be the sovereign Lord of all the visible and invisible 
worlds. It is his human nature, in which the Godhead 
dwells bodily, that is advanced to these honours and to 
this empire ; and perhaps there is little or nothing in 
the government of the kingdoms of nature and grace, 
but what is transacted by the Man Jesus, inhabited by 
the divine power and wisdom, and employed as a 
medium or conscious instrument of this extensive gub- 
emation. 

II. I proceed now to consider the next thing where- 
in the capacity or amplitude of the mind consists, and 
that is, when the mind is free to receive new and strange 
ideas and propositions upon just evidence, without any 
great surprise or aversion. Those who confine them- 
selves within the circle of their own hereditary ideas 
and opinions, and who never give themselves leave so 
much as to examine or believe any thing beside the 
dictates of their own family, or sect, or party, are justly 
charged with a narrowness of soul. Let us survey 
some instances of this imperfection, and then direct to 
the cure of it. 

(1.) Persons who have been bred up all their days 
vithin the smoke of their father's chimney, or within 
the hmits of their native town and village, are surprised 
at every new sight that appears, when they travel a 
lew miles from Tiome. The plowman stands amazed 
at the shops, the trade, the crowds of people, the mag- 
nificent buildings, the pomp, and riches, and equipage 
of the court and city^ and would hardly believe what 



OF THE MIND. 141 

was told hitn before he saw it. On the other hand, 
the coeknejr, travelling into the country, is surprised 
at many actions of the quadruped and winged animals 
in the field, and at many common practices of rural 
aflairs. 

If either of these happen to hear an account of the 
familiar and daily customs of foreign countries, they 
pronounce them at once indecent and ridiculous ; so 
narrow are their understandings, and their thoughts 
so confined, that they know not how to believe a.nj 
thing wise and proper, besides what thej have been 
taught to practice. 

This narrowness of mind should be cured by hearing 
and reading the accounts of different parts of the world, 
and the histories of past ages, and of nations and coun* 
tries distant from our own, especially the more polite 
parts of fnankind. Nothing tends in this respect so 
much to enlarge the mind as travelling, i. e. making a 
visit to other towns, cities, or countries, besides those 
in which we were born and educated ; and where our 
condition of life does not grant us this privilege, we 
must endeavour to supply tiie want of it by books. 

(2.) It is the same narrowness of mind that awakens 
the surprise and aversion of some persons, when they 
hear of doctrines and schemes in human affairs, or in 
religion, quite different from what they have embra- 
ced. Perhaps they have been trained up from their 
infancy in one set of notions, and their thoughts have 
been confined to mie single tract both in the civil and 
religious life, without ever hearing or knowing whaX 
other opinions are current among mankind ; or at least 
they have seen all other notions oesides their own rep- 
resented in a false and malignant light, whereupon they 
Judge and condemn at once every sentiment but what 
their own party receives, and they think it a piece of 
justice and truth to lay heavy censures upon the practice 
of every different sect in Christianity or politics. 
They have so rooted themselves in the opinions of 
their party, that they cannot hear an objection with 
patience, nor can they bear a vindication, or so much 
as an apology, for any set of principles beside their 
own ; all the rest is nonsense or heresy, folly or blas- 
phemy. 

This defect also is to be relieved by free conversation 
with persons of different sentiments ; this will teach 



i4i IMPROVEMENT 

as to bear with patience a defence of opiiiions contrary 
to our own. If we are scholars, we should also read 
the objections against our own tenets, and view the 
principles of other parties, as they are represented in 
their own autiiors, and not merely in the citations of 
those who would confute them. AVe should take an 
honest and unbiassed survey of the force of reasoning 
on all sides, »nd bring all to the test of unprejudiced 
reason and divine revelation. Note, this is not to be 
done in a rash and self-sufficient manner, but with a 
humble dependence on divine wisdom and grace, while 
we walk among snares and dangers. 

By such a IVv^e converse witn persons of different 
spcts( especially those who differ only in particular forms 
of Christianity, but agree in the great and necessary 
doctrines of it,) we shall find that there are persons of 
good sense and virtue, persons of piety and worth, 
persons of much candour and goodness, who belong 
to different parties and have imbibed sentirrients oppo- ' 
site to each other. This will soften the roughness 
of an unpolished soul, and enlarge the avenues of oui* 
charity towards others, and incline us to receive them 
into all the degrees of unity and affection, which the 
T^ord of God requires. 

(3.) I might borrow further illustrations, both of this 
freeaorn and this aversion to receive new truths, from 
modern astronomy and natural philosophy. How 
much is the vulgar part of the world surprised, at the 
tali: of the diurnal and annual revolutions of the 
earth ! They have ever been taught by their senses and 
their neighbours to imagine the earth stands fixed in 
the centre of the universe, and that the sun, with all the 
planets and fixed stars are whirled round this little 
globe once in twenty four hours ; not considering that 
such a diurnal motion, by reason of the distance of 
some of those heavenly bodies, must hp almost infi- 
nitely swifter and more inconceivable than any vvhich 
the modern astronomers attribute to them. Tell these 
persons that the sun is fixed in the centre, that the 
earth with all the planets roll round the sun in their 
several periods, and that the moon rolls round the earth 
in a lesser circle, while together with the earth she is 
carried round the sun ; they cannot admit a syllable of 
this new and strange doctrine, and they pronounce it ut- 
terly contrary to all sense and reason. 



OF THE MIND. 143 

Acquaint them that there are four moons also perpet^ 
ually rolling round the planet Jupiter, and carried along 
with him in his periodical circuit round the sun, which 
little moons were never known till the year 1610, Avhen 
Galilio discovered them with his telescope; inform 
them that Saturn has five moons of the same kind at- 
tending him ; and that the body of that planet is encom- 
passed with a broad, flat, circular ring, distant from the 
])lanet twenty one thousand miles, and twenty one 
thousand miles broad ; they look upon these things as 
tales and fancies, and will tell you that the glasses do 
but delude j'our e3'^es with vain images ; and even when 
they themselves consult their own eye sight in the use 
of these tubes, the narrowness of their mind is such, 
that, they will scarce believe their senses when they 
dictate ideas so new and strange. 

And if you proceed further, and attempt to lead them 
into a belief that all these planetary worlds are habitable, 
and it is probable they are replenished with ititellectual 
beings dv/elling in bodies, they will deride the folly of 
him that informs them ; for they^ resolve to believe there 
are no habitable worlds but this earth, and no spifitS 
dwelling in bodies besides mankind ; and it is well if 
they do not fix the brand of heresy on the man who isV 
leading them out of their long imprisonment and loos- 
ing the fetters of their souls. 

There are many other things relating to mechanical 
experiments, and to the properties of the air, water> 
fire, iron, the loadstone, and other minerals and metals^ 
as well as the doctrine of the sensible qualities, viz, 
colours, sounds, tastes, kc. which this rank of men 
cannot believe tor want of a greater amplitude of 
mind. 

The best way to convince them, is by giving them 
some acquaintance with the various experiments in 
philosophy, and proving by ocular demonstration the 
multiform and amazing operations of the air pump, the 
loadstone, the chemical furnace, optical glasses, and 
mechanical engines. By these means the understand- 
ing will stretch itself by degrees, and when they have 
found there are so many new and strange things that 
are most evidently true, they will not be so forward tc 
condemn every new proposition in any of the oth*;" 
sdences, or inithe affairs of religioner civil lifec 



144 IMPROVEMENT 

III. The capacity of the understanding includes yet 
another qualification in it, and that is, an ability to 
receive many ideas at once without confusion. The 
ample mind takes a survey of several objects with 
one glance, keeps them all within sight, and presents 
to the soul, that they niay be compared together in 
their mutual respects; it forms just judgments, and it 
draws proper inferences from this coinparison, even to 
a great length of argument, and a chain of demon- 
strations. 

The narrowness that belongs to human souls in gen- 
eral, is a great imperfection and impediment to wisdom 
and happiness. There are but few persons who can 
contemplate or practice several things at once ; our 
faculties are very limited, and while we are intent upon 
one part or property of a subject, we have but a slight 
glimpse of the rest, or we lose it out of sight. But it 
is a sign of a large and capacious mind, if we can with 
one single view take in a variety of objects ; or at least 
when the mind can apply itself to several objects with 
so su ift a succession, and in so few moments, as attains 
almost the same ends as if it were all done in the same 
instant. 

This is a necessary qualification in order to great 
knowledge and good judgment ; for there are several 
things in human life, in religion, and in the sciences, 
which have various circumstances, appendices, and re- 
lations attending them ; and without a survey of all 
those ideas which stand in connexion with, and relation 
to each other, we are often in danger of passing a false 
judgment on the subject proposed. It is for this reason 
there are so numerous controversies found among the 
learned and unlearned world, in matters of religion as 
w^ell as in the affairs of civil government. The notions 
of sin and duty to God and our fellow creatures ; of 
law, justice, authority, and power ; of covenant, faith, 
justification, redemption, imd grace ; of church, bishop, 
presbyter, ordination, kc. contain in them such com- 
plicated ideas, that when we are to judge of any thing 
concerning them, it is hard to take into our view at 
once all the attendants or consequents that must and 
will be concerned in the determination of a single 
question : and yet without a due attention to many, or 
most of these, we are in danger of determining that 
questicM amiss. 



OF THE MIND. 14^ 

It is owing to the narrowness of our minds, that we 
are exposed to the same peril in the matters of human 
duty and prudence. In many things which we do, we 
ought not only to consider the mere naked action it^ 
self, butthe persons who act, the persons towards whom, 
the time when, the place where, the manner how, the 
end for which the action is done, together with the ef- 
fects that must, or that may follow, and all other sur- 
rounding circumstances ; these thing:s must necessarily 
be taken into our view, in order to determine whether 
the action, which is indifferent in itself, be either lawful 
or unlawful, good or evil, wise or foolish, decent or in- 
decent, proper or improper, as it is so circumstantiated. 

Let me give a plain instance for the illustration of 
this matter. Mario kills a dog, which, considered 
merely in itself, seems to be an indifferent action ; now 
the dog was Timon's, and not his own ; this makes it 
look unlawful. But Timon bid him do it ; this gives ic 
an appearance of lawfulness again. It was done at 
church, and in time of divine service ; these circum- 
stances added, cast on it an air of irreligion. But the 
dog flew at Mario, and put him in danger of his life ; 
this relieves the seeming impiety of the action. Yet 
Mario might have escaped by flymg thence ; therefore 
the action appears to be improper. But the dog was 
known to be mad ; this further circumstance makes it 
tilmost necessary that the dog should be slain, lest he 
might worry the assembly, and do much mischief. 
Yet again, Mario killed him with a pistol, which he 
happened to have in his pocket, since yesterday's 
journey, now hereby the whole congregation was ter- 
rified and discomposed, and divine service was broken 
off; this carries an appearance of great indecency and 
impropriety in it ; but after all, when we consider a 
further circumstance, that Mario being thus violently 
assaulted by a mad dog, had no way of escape, and 
had no other weapon about him, it seems to take away 
all the colours of impropriety, indecency, or unlawful- 
ness, and to allow that tne preservation of one or many 
lives will justify the act as wise and good. Now all 
these concurrent appendices of the action ought to be 
purveyed, in order to pronounce with justice and truth 
concerning it. 

N 



146 IMPROVEMENT 

There are a multitude of human actions in private 
life, ill domestic affairs, in tratRc, in civil government, 
in courts of justice, in schools of learning, kc. whiclt 
have so many complicated circumstances, aspects, and 
situations, with regard to time and place, persons and 
things, that it is impossible for any one to pass a right 
judgment concerning them, without entering into most 
of.thesecircumstances, and surveying them extcHsively, 
and comparing and balancing them all aright. 

Whence, by the way, I may take occasion to say. 
How many thousands are there who take upon them to 
pass their censures on the personal and the domestic 
actions of others, who pronounce boldly on the affairs 
of the public, and determine the justice or madness, 
the wisdom or folly of national administrations, of 
peace and war, &.c. whom neither God nor men ever 
qualified for such a post of judgment! They were not 
capable of entering into the numerous concurring 
springs of action, nor had they ever taken a survey of 
the twentieth part of the circumstances which were 
necessary for such judgments or censures. 

It is the narrowness of our minds, as well as the 
vices of the will, that oftentimes prevents us from 
takinj5 a full view of all the complicated and concur- 
ring appendices that belong to human actions ; thence 
it comes to pass, that there is so little right judgment, 
so little justice, j)rudence, or decency, practised among 
the bulk of mankind ; thence arise inhnite reproaches 
and censures, alike foolish and unrighteous. You see 
therefore how needful and happy a thing it is to be 
possessed of some measure of this amplitude of soul, 
m order to make us very wise, or knowing, or just, or 
prudent, or happy. 

1 confess this sort of amplitude or capacity of mind 
is in a great measure the gift of nature, for some are 
born with much more capacious souls than others. 

The genius of some persons is so poor and limited, 
that they can hardly take in the connexion of two or 
three propositions, unless it be in matters of sense, and 
ivhich they have learnt by experience ; they are utterly 
unfit for speculative studies ; it is hard for them to 
discern the difference betwixt right and wrong in mat- 
ters of reason, on any abstracted subjects; these ought 
nsver to set up for scholars,, but apply themselves to 



OF THE MIND. 147 

tliose arts and professions of life which are to be learneti 
at an easier rate, by slow degrees, and daily experience. 
Others have a soul a little more capacious, and they 
can take in the connexion of a few propositions pretty 
well ; but if the chain of consequences be a little prolix, 
here they stick and are confounded. If persons of 
this make ever devote themselves to science, they 
should be well assured of a solid and strong constitution 
of body, and well resolved to bear the fatigue of hard 
labour and diligence in study ; if the iron be blunt, king 
Solomon tells us we must put more strength. 

But, in the third place, there are some of so bright 
and hapf)y a genius, and so ample a mind, that they 
can take in a long train of propositions, if not at once, 
yet in a very few moments, and judge well concerning 
the dependence of them. They' can survey a variety 
of complicated ideas without fatigue or disturbance ; 
aftd a number of truths offering themselves as it were 
in one view to their understanding, doth not perpley 
or confound them. This makes a great man. 

Now, though there may be much owing to nature in 
this case, yet experience assures us, that even a lower 
degree of this capacity and extent of thought, may be 
increased by diligence and application, by frequent 
exercise, and the observation of such rules as these : 

I. Labour by all xneans to gain an attentive and 
patient temper of mind, a power of confining and 
iixing your thoughts so long on any one appointed 
Hubject^ till you have surveyed it on every side and in 
<'very situation, and run through the several powers, 
pnrts, properties, and relations, effects and consequences 
of it. He whose thoughts are very fluttering and 
wandering, and cannot be fixed attentively to a few- 
ideas successively, will never be able to sdrvey manj'' 
and various objects distinctly at once, but will certainly 
be overwhelmed and confounded with the multiplicity 
of them. The rules for fixing the attention m the 
former chapter are proper to be consulted here. 

II. Accustom yourself to clear and distinct ideas in 
every thing you think of. Be not satisfied with obscure 
and confused conceptions of things, especially where 
clearer m:<y be obtained ; for one obscure or confused 
idea, ^ especially if it be of great importance in the 
question, intermingled with many clear ones, and 



148 IMPROVEMENT 

|>laced in its variety of aspects towards Ibem, will fee 
m danger of spreading confusion over the whole scene 
of ideas, and thus may have an unhappy influence to 
overwhelm the understanding with darkness, and per- 
vert the judgment. A little black paint will shamefully 
tincture and spoil twenty gay colours. 

Consider yet further, that if you content yourself 
frequently with words instead of ideas, or with clouch' 
and confused notions of things, how^ impenetrable will 
that darkness be, and how vast and endless that con- 
fusion which must surround and involve the under- 
standing, when many of these obscure and confused 
ideas come to be set before the soul at once ? And how- 
impossible will it be to form a clear and just judgment 
about them? 

JIL Use all diligence to acquire and treasure up a 
large store of ideas and notions ; take every opportuni- 
ty to add something to your stock, and by frequent 
recollection fix them in your memory ; nothing tendi 
to confirm and enlarge the memory like a frequent re- 
view of its possessions. Then the brain being well 
furnished with various traces,, signatures, and images, 
will have a rich treasure always ready to be proposed, 
or offered to the soul when it directs its thought towards 
any particular subject. This will gradually give the 
mind a faculty of surveying many objects at once ; as 
a room that is richly adorned and hung round with a 
great variety of pictures strikes the eye almost at once 
with all that variety, especially if they have been well 
surveyed one by one at first ; this snakes il habitual and 
more easy to the inhabitants to take in many of those 
painted scenes with a single glance or two. 

Here note, that by acquiring a rich treasure of notions, 
1 do not mean only single ideas, but also propositions, 
observations, and experiences, with reasonings and ar- 
guments upon the various subjects that occur among 
natural and moral, common or sacred affairs ; that when 
you are called to judge concerning any question, you 
will have some principles of truth, some useful axioms, 
and observations,, always ready at hand to direct and 
assii;t your judgment. 

IV. 'it is necessary that we should as far as possible 
entertain and lay up our daily new ideas in a regular 
order, and range the acqtvisitions of our souls under 



OF THE MIND. 149 

proper heads, whetherof divinity, law, physics, mathe- 
matics, morality, politics, trade, domestic life, civility, 
decency, &;c. whether of cause, effect, substance, mode, 
power, property, body, spirit, &c. We should inure 
our minds to method and order continually ; and when 
we take in any fresh ideas, occurrences, and observa- 
tions, we should dispose of them in their proper places, 
and see how they stand and agree with the rest of our 
notions on the same subject; as a scholar would dis- 
pose of a new book on a proper shelf among its ki ndred 
authors ; or as an officer at the post house in London 
disposes of every letter he takes in, placing it in the 
box that belongs to the proper road or county. 

In any of these cases, if things lay all in a heap, the 
addition of any neAV object would increase the confu- 
sion ; but method gives a speedy and short survej'^ of 
them with ease and pleasure. Method i^ of admirable 
advantage to keep our ideas from a confused mixture, 
and to preserve them ready for every use. The science 
of ontology which distributes all beings, and all the 
affections of being, whether absolute or relative, under 
proper classes, is of good service to keep our intellect- 
ual acquisitions in such order as that tiic mind may 
survey them at once. 

V. As method is necessary for the improvement of 
the mind, in order to make your treasure of ideas most 
useful ; so in all your further pursuits of truth, and ac- 
quirements of rational knowledge, observe a regular 
progressive method. Begin with the rnost simple, easy, 
and obvious ideas ; then by degrees join two, and three, 
and more of them together ; thus the complicated ideas 
growing up under your eye and observation, will not; 
give the same confusion of thought as they would 
do if they were all offered to the mind at once, 
%vithout your observing the original and formation of 
them. 

An eminent example of this appears in the study of 
arithmetic. If a scholar just admitted into the schoo! 
observes his master performing an operation in the rule 
of division, his head is at once disturbed and confound- 
ed with the manifold comparisons of the numbers of 
the divisor and dividend, and the multiplication of the 
one and subtraction of it frOm the other ; but if he 
begin regularly at addition, and so proceed by subtrac- 
N 2 



150 IMPROVEMENT 

lion and multiplication, he will then in a few weeks bfc 
able to take an intelligent survey of all those operations 
in division, and to practice them himself with ease and 
pleasure, each of which at first seemed all intricacy and 
confusion. 

An illustration of the like nature may be borrowed 
from geometry and algebra, and other mathematical 
l)ractices. How easily docs an expert geometrician 
with one glance of his eye take in a complicated dia- 
gram made up of may fines and circles, angles and 
arches ? How readily does he judge of it, whether the 
demonstration designed by it be true or false? It 
was by degrees he arrived at this stretch of under- 
standing ; he began with a single line or a point ; he 
joined two lines in an angle: he advanced to triangles 
"and squares, polygons and circles ; thus the powers of 
his understanding were stretched and augmented daily, 
till by diligence and regular application, he acquired 
this extensive faculty of mind. 

Bat this advantage does not belong only to mathe- 
matical learning. If we apply ourselves at first in any 
science to clear and single ideas, and never hurry our- 
selves on to the following and more complicalea parts 
of knowledge, till we thoroughly understand the fore- 
going, we may practice the same method of enlarging 
the capacitjr of the soul with success in any one of the 
sciences, or in the affairs of life and religion. 

Beginning with A, B, C, and making syllables out 
of letters, and words out of syllables, has been the 
foundation of all that glorious superstructure of arts 
and sciences which have enriched the^minds and libra- 
ries of the learned world in several ages. These are 
the first steps by which the ample and capacious souls 
among mankind have arrived at that prodigious extent 
of knowledge which reriiders them the wonder and glo- 
ry of the nation where they live. Though Plato and 
Cicero, Descartes and Mr.'Boyle, Mr. Locke and Sir 
Isaac Newton, were doubtless favoured by nature with 
a genius of uncommon amplitude, yetin their early years 
and first attempts of science, this was but limited and 
narrow in comparison of what they attained at last. 
But how vast and capacious were those powers which 
they afterwards acquired by patient attention and 
watchful observation, by the pursuit of clear ideas and 
a regular method of thinking ! 



OF THE MIND. I5i 

VI. Another means of acquiring this amplitude and 
capacity of mind, is a perusal of difficult entangled 
questions, and of the solution of them in any science. 
Speculative and casuistical divinity will furnish us with 
many such cases and controversies. There are some 
such difficulties in reconcilingseveral parts of the Epistles 
of St. Paul, relating to the Jewish law and the Chris- 
tian gospel, a happy solution whereof will require 
such an extensive view of things, and the reading of 
tliese happy solutions will enlarge this faculty in young- 
er students. 

In moral and political subjects, Puffendorf's Law of 
Nature and Nations, and several determinations there- 
in, will promote the same amplitude of mind. An at- 
tendance on j)ublic trials and arguments in the civil 
courts of justice, will be of good advantage for this 
purpose ; and after a man has studied the general prin- 
ciples of the law of nature and the laws of England in 
proper books, the reading the reports of adjudged ca- 
ses, collected by men of ^reat sagacity and judgment, 
will richly improve his mmd toward acquiring this de- 
sirable amplitude and extent of thought, and more 
especially in persons of that profession. 

CHAP, XVII. 

Of Improving the Memory, 

Memory is a distinct faculty of the mind of man, 
very different from the perception, judgment, and rea- 
sonmg, and its other powers. Then we are said to re- 
member any thing, when the idea of it arises in the 
mind with a consciousness at the same time that we 
have had this idea before. Our memory is our natural 
power of retaining what we learn,^and of recalling it on 
every occasion. Therefore we can never be said to 
remember any thing, whether it be ideas or proposi- 
tions, words or things, notions or arguments, of 
which we have not had some former idea or perception, 
either by sense or imagination, thought or reflection : 
but whatsoever we learn from observation, books, or 
conversation, &lc. it must all be laid up and preseiTcd 
in the memory, if we would make it really useful. 
So necessary and so excellent a faculty is the memo- 



152 DIPR0VE3IE1NT 

ry of man, that all other abilities of the mind borrow 
from hence their beauty and perfection ; for the other 
capacities of the soul are almost useless without this. 
To what purpose are all our labours in knowledge and 
wisdom, if we want memory to preserve and use what 
we have acquired ? What signify all other intellectual or 
spiritual improvements, if they are lost as soon as they 
are obtained ? It is memory alone that, enriches the 
mind, by preserving what our labour and industry daily 
collect. In a word, there can be neither knowledge, 
nor arts, nor sciences, without memory ; nor can there 
be any improvement of mankind in virtue or morals, 
or the practice of religion, without the assistance and 
influence of this power. Without memory the soul of 
man would be but a poor, destitute, naked being, 
with an everlasting blank spread over it, except tlie 
fleeting ideas of the present moment. 

Memory is very useful to those who speak, as w^ell as 
to those who learn. It assists the teacher and the ora- 
tor, as well as the sch olar or the hearer. The best speech - 
esandinstructionsare almost lost,ifthose who hear them 
immediately forget them. And those who are called 
to speak in public are much better heard and accepted, 
when they can deliver their discourse by the help of a 
lively genius and a ready memory, than when they 
are forced to read all that they would communicate to 
their hearers. Reading is certainly a heavier way of 
the conveyance of our sentiments ; and there are Aery 
few mere readers who have a felicity of penetrating the 
soul, and awakening the passions of those who hear, 
by such a grace and power of oratory, as the man who 
seems to talk every word from his very heart, and pours 
out the riches of his own knowledge upon the people 
round about him by the help of a free and copious 
memory. This gives life and spirit to every thing that 
is spoken, and has a natural tendency to make a deepjer 
impression on the minds of men ; it awakens the dullest 
spirits, causes them to receive a discourse with more 
affection and pleasure, and adds a singular §race and 
excellency both to the person and his oration. 

A good judgment and a good memory are very dif- 
ferent qualifications. A person may have a very strong, 
capacious, and retentive memory, where the judgment 
is very poor and weak: as sometimes it happens in 



OF THE MINB. 15« 

ihosn Avho are but one degree above an ideot, who have 
rnanifested an aftiazing strength and extent of memory , 
but h:ive hardly been able to join or disjoin two or thre<^ 
ideas in a wise and happy manner, lo make a solid, ra- 
tion m1 proposition. 

There liave been instfinces of others who have had 
but a very tolerable power of memory, yet their judg- 
ment has been of a much superior degree, just and 
wise, solid and excellent. 

Yet it must be acknowledged that where a' happy 
memory is found in any person, there is one good foun» 
dation laid for a wise and just judgment of things, 
wheresoever the natural genius has any thing of sa- 
gacity and brightness to make a right use of it. A 
good judgment must always in some measure depend 
upon a survey and comparison of several things togeth- 
er in the mind, and determining the truth of some 
doubtful proposition by that survey and comparison. 
tVhen the mind has, as it were, set all those various 
objects present before it, which are necessary to form 
a true proposition or judgment concerning any thing, 
it then determines that such and such ideas are to be 
joined or disjoined, to be affirmed or denied, and this in 
a consistency and correspondence with all those other 
ideas or propositions which in any way relate or belong 
to the same subject. Now there can be no such com- 
preliensive survey of many things without a tolerable 
degree of memory ; it is by reviewing things past we 
learn to judge of the future; and it happens sometimes 
that if one needful or important'object or idea be absent, 
the judgment concerning the thing inquired will there- 
by become false or mistaken. 

You will inquire then, how comes it to pass that there 
are some persons who appear in the world of business, 
as Avell as in the world of learning, to have a good 
judgment, and have acquired the just character of 
prudence and wisdom, and yet have neither a very 
bright genius or sagacity of thought, nor a very happy 
memory, so that they cannot set before their mindn 
at once a large scene of ideas.in order to pass a judg- 
ment? 

Now we may learn from Penseroso some accounts of 
this difficulty. You shall scarcely ever find this man 
forward in judging and determining things proposed to 
him,but he always takes time, and delays, and suspend?- 



154 IMPROVEMENT 

and ponders things maturely, before he jiassps his 
judgment ; then he practises a slow meditation, rumi- 
nates on the subject, and thus perhaps in two or three 
nights and days rouses and awakens those several ideas 
one after another as he can, which are necessarj^ in 
order to judge aright of the thing proposed, andmakes 
them pass before his review in succession ; this hedolh 
to relieve the want both of a quick sagacity of thought, 
and of a ready memory and speedy recollectit)n ; 
and this caution and practice lays the foundation of his 
just judgment and wise conduct. He surveys well be- 
fore'he judgoe- 

Whence 1 cannot but take occasion to infer one good 
rule of advice to persions of higher as well as lower 
genius, and of large as well as narrow memories, viz. 
That they do not too hastily pronounce concerning 
matters of doubt or inquiry, where there is not an ur- 
gent necessity of present action. The bright genius 
is ready to be so forward as often betrays itself into 
great errors in judgment, speech, and conduct, 
without a continual guard upon itself, and using the 
bridle of the tongue. And it is by this delay and pre- 
caution that many a person of much lower natural 
abilities shall often excel persons of the brightest genius 
in. wisdom and prudence. 

It is often found that a fine genius has but a feeble 
memorj^, for where the genius is bright, and the imagi- 
nation vivid, the power of memory may be too much 
neglected, and lose its improvement. An active fancy 
readily wanders over a multitude of objects, and is 
continually entertaining itself witii new flying images ; 
it runs through a number of new scenes or new pages 
with pleasure, but without due attention, and seldom 
suffers itself to dwell long enough upon any one of 
them to make a deep impression thereof upon the mind, 
and commit it to lasting rememf)rance. This is one 
plain and obvious reason why there are some persons 
of very bright parts and active spirits who have hut 
short and narrow powers of remembrance ; for, < 
having riches of their own, they are not solicitous to 
borrow. 

And, as such a quick and various fancy and invention 
ma)' be some hindrance to the attention and memory, so 
H mind of a good retentive ability, and which is Q\ev 



OF THE MIND. IT.5 

crowding its memory with tilings which it learns and 
reads continually, may prevent, restrain, and cramp, 
the invention itself. The memory of Lectorides is 
very ready upon all occasions to oflfer to his mind 
something out of other men's writings or conversations, 
and is presenting him Avith the thoughts of other persons 
perpetually ; thus the man who had naturally a good 
Ho wing invention, does not suffer himself to pursue his 
own thoughts. Some persons who have been blessed 
by nature with sagacity, and no contemptible genius, 
have too often forbid the exercise of it, by tying 
themselves down to the memory of the volumes they 
have read, and the sentiments of other men contained 
in them. 

Where the memory has been almost constantly em- 
ploying itself in scraping together new acquirements, 
and where there has not been a judgment sufficient to 
distinguish what things were fit to be recommended and 
treasured up in the memory, and what things were idle, 
useless, or needless, the mind has been filled with a 
wretched heap and hotch potch of words or ideas, and 
the soul may be said to have had large possessions, but 
no true riches. 

I have read in some of Mr. Milton's writings a very 
beautiful simile, whereby he represents the books of 
the Fathers, as they are called in the Christian church. 
Whatsoever, saith he. Old Time with his huge drag 
net has conveyed down to us along the stream of ages, 
w hether it be shells or shell fish, jewels or pebbles, 
sticks or straws, sea Aveeds or mud, these are the an- 
cients, these are the fathers. The case is much the 
same with the memorial possessions of the greatest 
part of mankind. ^ A few useful things perhaps, mixed 
and confounded Avith many trifles and all manner of rub- 
bish, fillup theirnaemoriesand compose their intellectual 
possessions. It is a great happiness therefore to distin- 
guish things aright, and to lay up nothing in the memo- 
ry but what has some just value in it, and is worthy to 
be numbered as a part of our treasure. 

Whatsoever improvements arise to the mind of irJaii 
from the Avise exercise of his own reasoning powers, 
these may be called his proper manufactures ; and 
Avhatsoever he borrows from abroad, these may be 
termed his foreign treasures; both together make a 
wealthy and happy mind. 



156 IMPROVEMENT 

How many excellent judgments and reasonings are 
framed in the mind of a'man of wisdom and study in a 
length of years? How many worthy and admirable 
Htjtions has he been possessed of in life, both by his 
own reasonings, and by his prudent and laborious con- 
nexions in the course of his reading ? But, alas ! how 
jnaoy thousands of them vanish away again and arc 
lost in empty air, for want of a stronger and more re- 
tentive memory ? When a young practitioner in the 
law was once said to contest a poujt of debate with 
that great lawyer in the last age. Sergeant Maynard, 
he is reported to have answered nim, Alas ! young man, 
1 have forgot much mpre law than ever thou hast learnt 
or read. 

What an unknown and unspeakable happiness would 
it be to a man of judgment, and who is engaged in the 
pursuit of knowledge, if he had but a power of stamp- 
ing all his own best sentiments upon his memory m 
some indelible characters ; and if he could but imprint 
every valuable paragraph and sentiment of the most 
excellent authors he has read upon his mind with thi^ 
same speed and facility with which he read them? If 
a man of good genius and sagacity could but retain 
and survey all those numerous, those wise and beautiful 
ideas at once which have ever passed through his 
thoughts upon any one subject, how admirably would 
he be furnished to pass a just judgment about all present 
objects and occurrences? What a glorious entertainment 
and pleasure would fill and felicitate his spirit, if he 
could grasp all these in a single survey; as the skilful 
eye of a painter runs over a nne and complicate piecii 
of history wrought by the hand of Titian or a Raphael, 
views the whole scene at once, and feeds himself with 
the extensive delight ? But these are joys that do not 
belong to mortality. 

Thus far I have indulged some loose and unconnected 
thoughts and remarks with regard to the different 
powers of wit, memory, and judgment ; for it was 
very difficult to throw them into a regular form or 
method without more room. Let us now with more 
regularity treat of the memory alone. 

Though the memory be a natural faculty of the mind 
of man, and belongs to spirits which are not incarnate, 
yet it is greatly assisted or hindered, and mudi diveriified 



0F THE MIND. Ij7 

by thf. brain Ojf the animal nature, to wiiich the soul is 
united ia this present state. But what part ofthe brain 
tliat is, wherein the images of things lie treasured up, 
is very hard for us to determine with certainty. It is 
most probable that those very fibres, pores, or traces of 
the brain, which assist at th(vfirst idea or perception of 
any object, are the same whicli assist also at the recol- 
lection' of it ; and then it will follow that the memory, 
has no special part of the brain devoted to its owri 
service, but uses all those parts in general which sub- 
serve our sensations, as well as our thinking and rea- 
soning powers. 

As the memory grows and improves in young persons 
from their childhood, and decays in old age, so it may 
be increased by art and labour, and proper exercise ; 
or it may be injured or quite spoiled by sloth, or by a 
disease, or a stroke on the head. There are some 
reasonings on this subject which make it evident, that 
the goodness of a memory depends in a great degree 
upon the consistence and the temperature of that part 
of the brain which is appointed to assist the exercise 
of all our sensible and intellectual faculties. 

So for instance, in children ; they perceive and forget 
a hundred things in an hour; the brain is so soft that it 
receives immediately all impressions like water or 
liquid mud, and retains scarcely any of them ; all the 
traces, forms, or images which are drawn there, are 
immediately effaced or closed up again, as though you 
wrote with your finger on the surface of a river, or on 
a vessel of oil. 

On the contrary in old<&«^, men have a very feeble 
remembrance of things that were done of late ; i. e. the 
same day, or week, or year ; the brain is grown so 
hard that the present images or strokes make little or 
no impression, and therefore they immediately vanish : 
Frisco in his seventy-eighth year, will tell long stories 
of things done when he was in the battle of the Boyne, 
almost fifty years ago, and when he studied at Oxford, 
seven years before ; for those impressions were made 
when the brain was more susceptive of them ; they 
have been deeply engraven at the proper season and 
therefore they remain. But words or things which he 
lately spoke or did, they are immediately forgottea, 



158 IMPROVEMENT 

beciiuse the brain is now grown more dry and solid in 
its consibtence, and receives not much more impression 
than if y<m wrote with your finger on u floor of clay, 
or a plastered wall. 

But ill the middle stage of life, or it may be from 
fifteen to ftfty years of age, the memorj^ is generally 
in its happi(>.st state ; the brain easily receives and long 
retains the images and traces which are impressed upon 
it ; and the natural spirits are more active to ran^e 
these httle infinite ijnknown figures of things in their 
proper cells or cavities, to preserve and recollect them. 

Whatsoever therefore keeps the brain in its best 
temper and consistence, may be a help to preserve the 
memory; but excess of wine or luxury of any kind, 
as well as excess in the studies of learning or the busi- 
ness of life, may overwhelm the memory, by over- 
straining and weakening the fibres of the brain, over- 
wasting the spirits, injuring the true consistence of that 
tender substance, and confounding the images that are 
laid up there. 

A good memory has these several qualifications : (1.) 
It is ready to receive and admit with great ease the 
various ideas both of words and things which are 
learned or taught. (2.) It is large and copious to treas- 
ure up these ideas in great number and variety. [S.) It 
is strong and durable to retain for a considerable time 
those words or thoughts, which are committed to it, 
(4.) It is faithful and active to suggest and recollect, upon 
every proper occasion, all those words or thoughts 
which have been recommended to its care, or treasured 
up in it. ^<% 

Now in every one of th^e qualifications, a memory 
may be injured or may be improved ; yet I shall not 
insist distinctly on these particulars, but only in general 
propose a few rules or directions, whereby this noble 
faculty of memory, in all its branches and qualifications, 
may be preserved or assisted, and show what are the 
practices that both by reason and experience have been 
found of happy influence to this purpose. 

There is one great and general direction which be- 
longs to the improvement of other powers as well as of 
the memory, and that is, to keep it always in due and 
proper exercise. Many acts by degrees form a habit, 
and thereby the ability or powf^r is stren^henerl an^ 



OF THE MIND. 159 

made more ready to appear again in action. Our 
memories should be used and inured from childhood to 
bear a moderate quantity of knowledge let into them ear- 
ly, and they will thereby become strong for use and ser- 
vice. As any limb well and duly exercised, grows strong- 
er, the nerves of the body are corroborated thereby. 
Milo took up a calf, and iiaily carried it on his shoul- 
ders ; as the calf grew, his strength grew also, and he at 
last arrived at firmness of joints enough to bear the bull. 

Our memories will be in a great measure moulded 
and formed, improved or injured, according to the ex- 
ercise of them, if we never use them, they will be al- 
most lost. Those who are wont to converse or read 
about a few things only, will retain but a few in their 
memory. Those who are used to remember things 
but for an hour, and charge their memories with it no 
longer, will retain them but an hour before they vanish. 
And let words be remembered as well as things, that so 
Tou may acquire a copia verborum as well asrerum, and 
be more ready to express your mind on all occasions. 

Yet there should be a caution given in some cases ; 
the memory of a child, or any infirm person, should 
never be overburdened ; for a limb or a joint may be 
overstrained by being too much loaded, and its natural 
power never be recovered. Teachers should wisely 
kludge of the power and constitution of youth, and 
impose no more on them than they are able to bear 
with cheerfulness and improve'T»cnt. 

And particularly they should take care that the 
memory of the learner be not too much crowded with 
a tumultuous heap or overbearing multitude of docu- 
ments or ideas at one time : this is the way to remem- 
ber nothing; one idea effaces another. An overgreedy 
grasp does not retain the largest handful. But it is the 
exercise of memory with a due moderation, that is one 
general rule towards the improvement of it. 

The particular rules are such as these : 

1. Due attention and diligence to learn and know 
things which we should commit to our remembrance, 
is a rule of great necessity in this case. When the at- 
tention is strongly fixed to any particular subject, all 
that is said concerning it makes a deeper impression 
upon the mind. There are some persons who complain 
they cannot remember divine or human discourses 



160 IMPROVEMENT 

■which they hear, when in trutli their thoughts n\r: 
wandering half the time, or they hear with such cold- 
ness and indjfterence, and a trifling temper of spirit, that 
it is no wonder the things which are read or spoken 
make hut a slight impression on the brain, and get no 
lirm footing in the seat of memory, but soon vanish 
and are lost. 

It is needful therefore if we would retain a long re- 
membrance of the things wiiich we read or hear, that 
we should engage our delight and pleasure in those 
subjects, and use the other methods which are before 
j)rescribed, in order to fw the attention. Sloth, indo- 
lence, and idleness, will no more bless the mind with 
intellectual riches, than they will fill the hand with gain, 
the field with corn, or the purse with treasure. 

Let it be added also, (hat not only the slothful and 
the negligent deprive themselves of proper knowledge 
for the furniture of their memory, but such as appear 
to have active spirits, who are ever skimming over the 
surface of things with a volatile temper, will fix nothing 
in their mind. Vario will spend whole mornings m 
running over loose and unconnected pages, and with 
fresh curiosity is ever glancing over new words and 
ideas that strike his present fancy ; he is fluttering «ver 
a thousand objects of arts and science, and yet treasures 
up but little knowledge. There must be the labour 
and diligence of close attention to particular subject* 
of thought and inquiry, which only can impress what 
we read or think of upon the remembering faculty of 
man. 

2. Clear and distinct apprehensions of the things 
which we commit to memory is necessary, in order to 
make them stick and dwell there. If we would re- 
member Avordsorlf^arn the names of persons or thing?, 
w'e should have them recommended to our memory, by 
:\ clear and distinct pronunciation, spelling, or writing. 
If we would treasure up the ideas of things, notions, 
propositions, arguments, and sciences, these should be 
recommended also to our memory, by a clear and dis- 
tinct perception of them. Faint, glimmering, and con- 
fused ideas,! will vanish hke images seen in twilight. 
Every thin^ Avhich we learn should be conveyed to the 
understanding in the plainest expressions, without any 
ambiguity, that we may not mistake Avhat we desire to 



OF THE MIND, IGf 

remember. This is a general rule, whether we wouM 
employ the memory about words or things, though it 
must be confessed, that mere sounds and words are much 
harder to get by heart, than the knowledge of things 
and real images. 

For this reason, take heed, (as I have often before 
warned) that jou do not lake up with words instead of 
thiings, nor mere sounds instead of real sentiments and 
ideas. Many a lad forgets what has been taught him, 
merely because he never well understood it ; he never 
clearly and distinctly tookinthe meaning of those sounds 
and r^yllables ivhich he was required to get by heart. 

This is one true reason why boys make so poor a 
proficiency in learning the Latin tongue, under masters 
•who teach them by grammars and rules written in 
Latiia, of vi/hich I have spoken before. And this is a 
comrnon case with children when they learn their cate- 
chisms in their early days. The language and the sen- 
timents conveyed in those catechisms are far above the 
undek'standing of youth of that age, and they have no 
tolerable ideas under the Avords. This- makes the 
answers much harder to be remembered, and in truth 
they learn nothing but words without ideas ; andif they 
are erer so perfect in repeating the words, yet they 
know nothing of divinity. 

And foi* this reason it is a necessary rule in teaching 
children the principles of religion, that they should be 
expressed in very plain, easy, and familiar words,brought 
as low as possible down to their understandings, accor- 
ding to their different ages and capacities ; and thereby 
tiiey will obtain some useful knowledge when the words 
are treasured up in their memory, because at the same 
time they will treasure up those divine ideas too. 

3. Method and regularity in the things we commit 
to memory is necessary in order to make them take 
more effectual possession of the mind, and abide there 
long. As mucli as systematical learning is decried by 
some vain and humorous triflers of the age, it is certainly 
the happiest way to furnish the mind with a variety of 
knowledge. 

Whatsoever 5'ou would trust to your memory, 

let it be disposed in a proper method, connected 

well together, and referred to distinct and particular 

heads or classes, both general and particular. An 

02 



16S IMPROVEMENT 

apothecary's boy will much sooner learn all the med- 
icines in his master's shop when they are raaged in 
boxes or on shelves according to their distinct natures, 
whether herbs, drugs, or minerals, whether leaves or 
roots, -whether chemical or galenical preparations, 
whether simple or compound, kc. and when they are 
placed in some order according to their nature, their 
fluidity, or their consistence, k.c. in phials, bottles, galli- 
pots, cases, drawers, &-c. So the genealogy of a family 
IS more easily learnt when you begin at some great 
grandfather as the root, and distinguish the stock, the 
large boughs, the lesser branches, the twigs, and the 
buds till you come down to the present infants of the 
house. And indeed all sorts of arts and sciences, taught 
in a method something of this kind, are more happily 
committed to the mind or memory. 

I might Live anotlier plain simile to confirm the/ruth 
of this. \Vliat horse or carriage can take up and bear 
away all the various, rude, and unwieldy loppings of a 
branchy tree at once ? But if they are dividedyet ftrther, 
so as to be laid close, and bounS up in a more uniform 
manner into several faggots, perhaps those loppings 
may be all carried at one single load or burden. 

The mutual dependence of things on each otherhelps 
the memorj^ of both. A wise connexion of the pjirts of 
a discourse in a rational method, gives great advantage 
to the reader or hearer in order to his remembrance of 
it. Therefore many mathematical demonstrations in a 
long train, may be remembered much better than a heap 
of sentences which have no connexion. The book of 
Proverbs, at least from the tenth chapter and onWa^d^j, 
is much harder to remember than the book of Psalro.sj 
for this reason ; and some Christians have told me that 
they remember what is written in the epistle to the 
Romans, and that to the Plebrews, much better than 
many others of the sacred epistles, because there is 
more exact method and connexion observed in them. 

He that would leai n to remember a sermon which he 
hears, should acquaint himself by degrees with the 
method in which the several important parts of it are 
delivered. It is a certain fault in a multitude of preach- 
ers, that they utterly neglect method in their haran- 
gues; or at least they refuse to render their method 
visible and sensible to the hearer-. One v>ould ht\ 



OF THE MIND. 165 

tempted to tliink it was for fear lest their auditors 
should reraembe^* too much of their sermons, and pre- 
vent their preaching them three or four times over ; 
but I have candour enough to persuade myself that 
the true reason is, they imagine it to be a more modish 
way of preaching without particulars : lam sure it is 
a much more useless one. Arid it would be of great 
advantage both to the speaker and hearer, to have dis- 
courses for the pulpit cast into a plain and easy method, 
and the reasons or inferences ranged in a proper order, 
and that under the words firsts secondly^ and thirdly^ 
however they may be now fancied to sound unpolite 
or unfashionable ; but Archbishop Tillotson did not 
think so in his days. 

4. A frequent review and careful repetition of' the 
thmgs we would learn, and an abridgment of them 
in a narrow compass for this end, has a great influence 
to fix them in the memory ; therefore it is that the 
rules of grammar, and useful examples of the variation 
of words, and the peculiar forms of speech in any lan- 
guage, are so often appointed by the master as lessons 
for the scholar, to be frequently repeated ; and they 
are contracted into tables for frequent review, that what 
is not fixed in the mind at first, may be stumped upon 
the memory by a perpetual survey and rehearsal. 

Repetition is so very useful a practice, that Mnemoii, 
even from his youth to his old age, never read a book 
without making some small points, dashes, or hooks, in 
the margm, to mark what parts of the discourse were 
proper for a review, and when he came to the end of 
the section or chapter, he always shut his book and 
recollected all the sentiments or expressions he had 
remarked, so that he could give a tolerable analysis and 
abstract of every treatise he had read, just after he 
had finished it. Thence he became so well furnished 
with a rich variety of knowledge. 

Even when a person is hearing a sermon or a lecture, 
he may give his thoughts leave now and then to step 
back so far as to recollect the several heads of it from 
the beginning, two or three times before the lecture or 
sermon is finished ; the omission or the loss of a sen- 
tence or two among the amplifications is richly com- 
pensated by preserving in tne mind the method and 
order of the whole discourse in the most important 
Ijranchesof it. 



164 IMPROVEMENT 

If we would fix in the memory the discourses we 
hear, or what we design to speak, let us abstract them 
into brief compends, and review them often. Lawyers 
and divines have need of such assistances ; they write 
down short notes or hints of the principal heads of what 
they desire to commit to their memory, in order to 
preach or plead ; for such abstracts and epitomes may 
be reviewed much sooner, and the several amplifying 
sentiments or sentences will be more easily invented or 
recollected in their proper places. The art of short 
hand is of excellent use for this as. well as for other 
purposes. It must be acknowledged, that those who 
scarcely ever take a pen in their hand to write short 
notes or hints of what they are to speak or learn^ who 
never try to cast things into method, or to contract the 
survey of them in order to commit them to their memo- 
ry, had need to have a double degree of that natural 
power of retaining and recollecting what they read or 
hear, or intend to speak. 

Do not plunge yourself into other business or studies, 
amusements or recreations, immediately aftpr you have 
attended upon instruction, if you can well avoid it. Get 
lime if possible, to recollect the things you have heard, 
that they may not be washed all away from the mind 
by a torrent of other occurrences or engagements, nor 
lost in the crowd or clamour of other loud and impor- 
tant affairs. 

Talking over the things which you have read with 
your companions, on the first proper opjiortunity you 
have for it, is a most useful manner of review o»- repeti- 
tion, in order to fix them upon the mind. Teach them 
your younger friends, in order to establish your own 
knowledge, while you communicate it to them. The 
animal powers of your tongue and of your ear, as well as 
your intellectual faculties, will all join together to help 
the memory. Hermitas studied hard in a remote corner 
of the land, and in solitude, yet he became a very learn- 
ed man. He seldom was so happy as to enjoy suitable 
society at home, and therefore ne talked over to the 
fields and the woods in the evening, what he had been 
reading in the day, and found so considerable advantage 
by this j)ractice, that he recommended it to all his 
friends, since he could set his probadum to it for seven- 
teen years. 



OF THE MIND. 165 

.*>. Pleasure and delight in the tMr^gs^we learn, give 
great assistance towards the re«iembra«ce of thehn. 
Whatsoever therefore we desire that a child should 
commit to bis memory, make it as pleasant to him as 
possible ; endeavour to search his genius and his tem- 
per ; and let him take in the instructions you give him, 
or the lessons younppoint him, as far as may be, in a way 
suited to his natural inclination. Fabeilus would never 
learn any moral lessons till they were moulded into the 
form of some fiction or fable like those of J*]sop, or till 
they put on the appearance of a parable, like those where- 
in our blessed Saviour taught the ignorant world. Then 
he remembered well the emblematical instructions that 
were given him, and learnt to practise the moral sense 
and meaning of them. Young Spectorius was taught 
virtue by setting before him a varietj' of examples of 
the various good qualities in human life ; and he was 
appointed daily to repeat some story of this kind out of 
V alerius Maximus. The same lad was early instructed 
to avoid the common vices and follies of youth in the. 
same manner. This is akin to the method whereby the 
Lacedsemonians trained up their children to hate drunk- 
enness and intemperance, viz. by bringing a drunken 
man into their company, and showing them what a 
beast he had made of himself. Such visible and sensi- 
ble forms of instruction will make long and useful im- 
pressions upon the memory. 

Children may be taught to remember many things 
in a way of sport and play. Some young children 
have learnt their letters and syllables, and the pronoun- 
cing and spelling of words, by having them pasted or 
written upon many little flat tablets or dies. Some 
have been taught vocabularies of different languages, 
having a word in one tongue Avritten on one side of 
these tablets, and the same word in another tongue on 
the other side of them. 

There might be also many entertaining contrivances 
for the instruction of children in several things relatini; 
to geometry, geography, and astronomy, in such alluring 
and illusory methods, which would make a most agree- 
able, and lasting impression on their minds. 

6. The memory of useful things may receive con- 
siderable aid if tney are thrown into verse ; for the. 
numbers, and measures, and rhyme, according to the 



166 IMPROVEMENT 

poesy of different languages, have a considerable influ- 
ence upon mankind, both to make them receive with 
more ease the things proposed to their observation, 
and preserve them longer in their remembrance. How 
many are there of the common affairs of human life 
Avhich have been taught in early years by the help of 
J hyme, and have been like nails fastened in a sure place, 
and rivited by daily use ? 

So the number of the days of each month are en- 
graven on the memory of thousands by these four lines : 

Thirty days hath September, 
April, June, and November ; 
February twenty-eight alone, 
And all the rest have thirty-one. 

So lads have been taught frugality by surveying and 
judging of their own expences by these three Imes : 

Compute the pence but of one day's expence, 
So many pounds and angels, groats, and pence, 
Are spent in one whole year's circumference. 

For the number of days in a year is three hundred 
sixty-five, which number of pence makes one pound, 
one angel, one groat, and one penny. 

So have rules of health been prescribed in the book 
called Schola Salernitani, and many a person has pre- 
served himself doubtless from evening gluttony, and 
the pains and diseases consequent upon it, by thes(; 
two lines: 

Ex magna arna stomadiojit maxima 'pana 
n sis node lcvis,fU tibi c(zna hrtvis. 

ENGLISHED: 

To be easy all night, 
Let your supper be light, 
Orelse you'll complain 
Of a stomach in pain. 

And a hundred proverbial sentences in various lan- 
j^uages are formea into rhyme or a verse, whereby 
they are made to stick upon the memory of old anii 
young. 

It is from this principle that moral rules have been 
cast into a poetic mould from all antiquity. So the 
golden verses of the Pvthagoreans in Greek; Cato's 



OF THE MIND. 1G7 

distichs De Morihiisin Latin ; Lilly's precepts to scho- 
lars called Qui mihi^ with many others, and this has 
been done with very good success. A line or two of 
this kind recurring on the memory, have often guarded 
youth from a temptation to vice and folly, as well as 
put them in mind of their present duty. 

It is for this reason also that the genders, declensions, 
and variations, of nouns and verbs have been taught in 
verse, by those who have complied with the prejudice 
of long custom, to teach English children tlje Latin 
tongue by rules written in Latin ; and, truly, those rude 
heaps of words and terminations of an unknown 
tongue would have never been so happily learnt by 
heart, by a hundred thousand boys without this smooth- 
ing artifice ; nor indeed do I know any thing else can 
be said with good reason to excuse or relieve the obvi- 
ous absurdities of this practice. 

When you would remember new things or words, 
endeavour to associate and connect them with some 
words or things which you have well known before, 
and which are fixed and established in your memory. 
This association of ideas is of great importance and 
force, and may be of excellent use in many instances of 
human life. One idea which is familiar to the mind, 
connected with others which are new and strange, wili 
bring those new Ideas into easy remembrance. Maron- 
ides had got the first hundred lines of Virgil's Mne'ifi 
printed upon his memory so perfectly, that he knew 
not only the order and number of every verse from 
one to a hundred in perfection, but the order and num- 
ber of every word in each verse also ; and bj' this 
means he would undertake to remember two or three, 
hundred names of persons or things by some rational 
or fantastic connexion between some word in the verse, 
and some letter, syllable, property, or accident of the 
name or thing to be remembered, even though they 
had been repeated but once or twice at most in hi's 
hearing. Animatio practised much the same art of 
memory, by getting the Latin names of twenty two 
animals into his head according to the alphabet, viz. 
asinuSjbasiliscus, canis, draco^ dephas, fehs, gryphus. 
hircusjjuyenis, leo, mulus, noclua^ ovis, panther a, quad-- 
rupes, rhinoceros^ simia, tauruSf ursus, riphias, hyc&nct. 
or ymna,^ zibeita. Most of these he also divided into 



168 IMPKOVEMENT 

four parts, viz. head and body, feet, fins or Avinj;^, and 
tail, and by some arbitrary or chimerical attachment of 
each of these to a word or thing which he desired to 
remember, he committed them to the care of his memo- 
ry, and that with good success. 

It is also by tiiis association of ideas that we ma^^ heU 
ter imprint any new idea upon the memory, by^joining | 
witli it some circumstance of tiie time, place, company, 
Sic. wherein we first observed, heard, or learnt it. If 
we would recover an absent idea, it is useful to recol- 
lect those circumstances of time, place, &,c. The sub- 
stance will many times be recovered and brought to" the 
thoughts by recollecting the shadow ; a man recurs to 
our fancy by remembering bis garment, his size, or 
stature, liis office, or employment, &:c. A beast, bird, 
or fish, by its colour, figure, or motion, by the cage, 
court yard, or cistern wherein it was kept. 

To this head also we may refer that remembrance of 
names and things which may be derived from our re- 
collection of their likeness to other things which we 
k'-now; either their resemblance in name, character, form, 
accident, or any thing that belongs to them. An idea 
or Avord which has been lost or forgotten, has often 
been recovered by hitting upon some other kindred 
word or idea, which has the nearest resemblance to 
it, and that in the letters, syllables, or sound of the 
)»ame, as woM as properties of the thing. 

If we would remember Hippocrates, or Galen, or Par- 
acelsus, think of a physician's name, beginning with H, 
(y, or p. if we shall remember Ovidius Naso, we may 
represent a man with a great nose ; if Plato, we may 
thnik upon a person with large shoulders ; if Crispus, 
we shall fancy another with curled hair; and so of 
other things. 

And sometimes a new or strange idea, may be fixed 
in the memory, by considering its contrary or opposite*. 
So if we cannot hit upon the word Gohath, the re- 
membrance of David may recover it ; or the name 
of a Trojan may be recovered by thinking of u 
Greek, &'c. 

7. In such cases, wherein it may be done, seek after 
a local memory, or a remembrance of what you have 
read by the side or page where it is written or printed ; 
whether the right or left, whether at the top, the mid- 



OF THE MIND. 169 

Uie, or the bottom ; whether at the beginning of a 
-chapter or paragraph, or the end of it. It has been 
some advantage, for this reason, to accustom one's 
self to books of the same edition ; and it has been a 
constant and special use to divines and private Cliris- 
lians, to be furnished with several Bibles of the same 
edition, that wheresover they are, whether in their 
chamber, parlour, or study, in the younger or elder 
years of life, they may find the chapters and verses 
standing in the same parts of the page. 

This IS also a great conveniency to be observed by 
printers in the new editions of grammars, Psalips, Tes- 
taments, &.C. to print every chapter, paragraph, br verse, 
ill the same part of the page as the former, ^hat so it 
may yield an happy assistance to those young learners, 
Avho find, and even feel, the advantage of a local me 
mory. 

8. Let every thing we desire to remember be 
fairly and distinctly written and divided into peri- 
ods, with large characters in the beginning, for by 
this means we shall the more readily imprint the 
matter and words on our minds, and recollect them 
with a glance, the more remarkable the writing appears 
to the eye. This sense conveys the ideas to the fancy 
better than any other ; and what we have seen is not so 
soon forgotten as what we have only heard. What 
Horace affirms of the mind or passions may be said 
also of the memory. 

Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem 
Qimm quce sunt occulis suhjecta Jidelibus ,et quce 
Ipse sibi tradit spectator . 

APPLIED THUS IN ENG LISH .• 

Sounds which address the ear are lost and die 
In one short hour ; but that wliich strikes the eye 
Livertong upon the mind ; the faithful sight 
Engraves the knowledge with a beam of light. 

For the assistance of weak memories, the first letters 
or words of every period, in every page, may be writ- 
ten in distinct colours ; yellow, green, red, black, fcc. 
and if you observe the same order of colours in the 
following sentences, it may be still the better. This 
will make a great impri^ssion, and may much aid the 
memory. 

P 



iTO LMPROVEMEJXT 

Under this head Ave may take notice of the advantage 
tvhich the memory gains, by having the several objects 
of our learning d.rawn out into schemes and Jables; 
matters of mathematical science and natural philoso- 
phy are not only let into the understanding, butpreserv- 
ed in the memory by figures and diagrams. The situ- 
ation of the several parts of the earth are better learnt 
by one day's conversing with a map or sea chart, than 
by mere reading the description of their situation a 
hundred times over in books of geography. So the 
constellations in astronomy, and their positions in 
the heavens, are more easily remembered by hemis- 
pheres of the stars well drawn. It is by having such 
sort of memorials, figures, and t-ibles hung round our 
studies, or places of residence or resort, that our memo- 
ry of these things will be greatly assisted and improved, 
as I have shown at large in the twentieth chapter of 
the Use of the Sciences. 

1 might add here also, that once writing over what 
we design to remember, and giving due attention to 
what we write, will fix it more in the mind than reading 
it five times. And in the same manner, if we had a 
plan of the naked lines of longitude and latitude, pro- 
,]ected on the meridian printed for this use, a learner 
might more speedily advance himself in the knowledge 
of geography by his own drawing the figures of all 
the parts of the world upon it by imitation, than by- 
many days survey of the map of the world so printed. 
The same also may be said concerning the constellations 
of heaven, drawn by the learner on a naked projection 
of the circles of the sphere upon the plane of the 
equator. 

9. It has sometimes been the practice of men to im- 
}3rint names or sentences on their memorj% by taking the 
first letters of every word of that sentence, or of those 
names, and making a new word out of them. So the 
Tiame of the Maccabees is borrowed from the first letters 
of the Hebrew words which make that sentence, Mi 
Camoka Bealim Jehovah, i. e. who is like thee among 
the gods ? Which was written on their banner§. Jesus 
Christ our Saviour, hath been called a fish, in Greek 
IXOYX, by the fathers, because these are the first let- 
lers of those Greek words, Jesus Christ, God's Son, the 
Saviour. So the word Vibgyor teaches us to rem.em- 



OF THE MIND. ifl 

ber the order of fhe seven original colours, as they ap^ 
pear bj' the sun beams cast through a prism on white 
paper, or formed by the sun in a rainbow, accor- 
ding to the different refrangibility of the rays, viz. 
violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange, and red. 

In this manner the Hebrew grammarians teach their 
students to remember the letters which change their 
natural pronunciation by the inscription of R'dagesh, 
by gathering these six letters, beth, gimel, daleth, caph, 
pe, and thau, into the word Begadchepat ; and that 
they might not forget the letters named Quiescent, viz. 
a, h, V, and i, they are joined in the word ahevi. So the 
universal and particular propositions in logic, are re- 
membered by the words Barbara, celarent, Dani, ^r. 

Other artificial helps to memory may be just men- 
tioned here. 

Dr. Grey, in his book called Memoria Technica, has 
exchanged the figures 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, for some 
consonants, b, d, t, f, 1, y, p, k, n, and some vowels, a, 
e, i, o, u, and several dipthongs, and thereby formed, 
words that denote numbers, which may be more easily 
remembe/ed; and Mr. Lowe has improved his scheme, 
#n a small pamphlet called Mnemonics delineated, 
whereby in seven leaves, he has comprised almost an 
infinity of things in science and in common life, and 
reduced them to a sort of measure like Latin verse y 
though the words may be supposed to be very barba- 
rous, being such a mixture of vowels and consonants 
as are very unfit for hariinon)^. 

But after all, the very writers on this subject have 
confessed, that several of these artificial helps of memo- 
ry are so cumbersome as not to be suitable to every 
temper or person ; nor are they of any use for the 
delivery of a discourse by memory, nor of much ser- 
vice in ],earnlng the sciences; but they may be some- 
times practised for the assisting our remembrance of 
certain sentences, numbers, and names. 

CHAP. xvin. 

- Of Determining a Qiicstion. 

1> Vy HEN a subject is proposed to your thoughts, 
consider whether it be knowable at all, or no ; and then 



172 liVlPROVEMENT 

whether it be not above the reach of your inquiry and 
knowledge in the present state ; and remember that it 
is a great waste of time to busy yourselves too much 
among unsearchables ; the chief use of these studies is 
to keep the mind humble, by finding its own ignorance 
and weakness. 

II. Consider again whether the matter be worthy of 
your inquiry at all ; and then, how far it may be worthy 
of your present search and labour according to your 
age, your time of life, your station in the world, your 
capacity, your profession, your chief design and end. 
There are many things worth inquiry to one man, 
\vhichare not so to another; and there are things that 
may deserve the study of the same pe4'son in one part 
of life, which would be improper or impertinent at an-, 
other. To read books of tlie art of preaching, or 
disputes about church discipline, are proper for a theo- 
logical student in the end of his academical studie??. 
but not at the beginning of them. To pursue mathe- 
matical studies very largely, may be useful for a pro- 
fesser of philosophy, but not for a divine. 

III. Consider whether the subject of your inquiry 
be easy or difficult ; whether you have sufficient founda'* 
tion or skill, furniture and advantages, for the pursuit of 
it. It would be madness for a young statuary to 
attempt at first to carve a Venus or a Mercury, and 
especially without proper tools. And it is equally folly 
for a man to pretend to make great improvements in 
nattiral philosophy without due experiments. 

IV. (Jonsider whether the subject be any ways use- 
ful or no, before you engage in the study of it ; often 
put this question to yourselves, Cui bono ? To what 
purpose ? What end will it attain ? Is it for the glory 
of God, for the good of men, for your own advantage, 
for the removal of any natural or moral evil, for the 
attai«unent of any natural or moral good ? Will the 
|>rofit be ecjual to the labour ? There are many sub- 
tile impertinencies learnt in the schools, many pain- 
ful trifles even among the mathematical theorems and 
problems, many difficiles nugce, or laborious follies of 
various kinds, which some ingenious men have been 
engaged in. A due reflection upon these things will 
call the mind away from vain amusements, and save 
much time. 



OF THE MIND. 17^ 

V. Consider what tendency it Jias to make you wiser 
and better, as well as to make you more learned ; and 
those questions which tend to wisdom and prudence 
in our conduct among men, as well as piety toward 
God, are doubtless more important, and preferable be- 
yond all those inquiries which only improve our 
knowledge in mere speculations. 

VI. If the question appear to be well worth your 
diligent application, and you are furnished witfi the 
necessary requisites to pursue it, then consider whether 
it be drest up and entangled in more words than is 
needful, and contain or include more complicated ideas 
than is necessary ; and if so, endeavour to reduce it to 
a greater simplicity and plainness, which will make the 
inquiry and argument easier and plainer all the way. 

VII. If it be stated in an improper, obscure, or irre- 
gular form, it may be meliorated by changing the 
phrase, or transposing the parts of it ; but be careful 
always to keep the grand and important point of inqui- 
ry the same in your new stating the c|uestion. Little 
tricks and deceits of sophistry, by sliding in, or leaving 
out such words as entirely change the question, should 
be abandoned and renounced by all fair disputants and 
honest searchers after truth. 

The stating a question with clearness and justness 
goes a great way many times toward the answering it. 
The greatest part of true knowledge lies in a distinct 
perception of things which are in themselves distinct ; 
and some men give more light and knowledge by the 
bare stating of the (juestion with perspicuity and justice, 
than others by talking of it in gross confusion for whole 
liours together. To state a question is but to separate 
and disentangle the parts of it from one another, as well 
as from every thing which doth not concern the ques- 
tion,'and then to lay the disentangled parts of the ques- 
tion in due order and method ; oftentimes without 
more ado this'fully resolves the doubt, and shows the 
mind where the truth lies, without argument or disfjute. 

VIII. If the question relate to an axiom or first princi- 
ple of truth, remember that a long train of consequences 
may depend upon it, therefore it should not be suddenly 
admitted or received. 

It is not enough to determine the truth of a propo- 
sition, much less to raise it to the honour of an axiom 
■ P S 



lU IMPROVEMENT 

or first principle, to say, that it has been bfelieved 
through many ages, that it has been received by many 
nations, that it is ahnost universally acknowledged, or 
nobody denies it, and that it is established by hiiman 
laws, or that temporal penalties or approaches will attend 
the disbelief of it. 

IX. Nor is it enough to forbid any proposition the 
title of an axiom, because it has been denied by some 
persons, and doubted by others ; for some persons have 
been unreasonably credulous, and others have been as 
unreasonably sceptical. Then only should a proposi- 
tion be called an axiom or a self-evident truth, when, 
by a moderate attention to the subject and predicate, 
their connexion appears in so plum a light, and so clear 
an evidence, as needs no third idea, or middle term, to 
prove them to be connected. 

X. While 3'ou are in search after truth in questions 
of a doubtful nature, or such as you have not yet tho- 
roughly examined, keep up a just indifference to either 
side of the question, if you would be led honestly into 
the truth ; for a desire or inclination leaning to either 
side, biases the judgment strangely ; whereas by this 
indifference for every thing but truth, you will be excited 
to examine ftiirly instead of presumin'g, and your assent 
will be secured from going beyond your evidence. 

XL For the most part people are bom to their opin- 
ions, and never question the truth of what their family, 
or their country, or their party profess. They clothe 
their minds as they do their bodies, after the fashion in 
vogue, nor one of a hundred ever examines their prin- 
ciples. It is suspected of lukewarmness to suppose 
examination necessary, and it will be charged as a ten- 
tiency to apostacy if we go about to examine them. 
Persons arn applauded for presuming they are in the 
light, and (as Mr. Locke saith) he that considers and 
inquires into the reason of things is counted a foe to 
orthodoxy, because possibly he may deviate from some 
of the received doctrines. And thus men without any 
industry or acquisition of their own (lazy and idle as 
they are) inherit local truths, i. e. the truths of that place 
where they live, and are inured to assent without 
evidence. , \ 

This hath a long and unhappy influence ; for if a man 
ran bring his mind onee to be positive and fierce for 



OF THE MIND. 17.5 

"propositions whose evi<]ence he hath never examined, 
and that in matters of the greatest concernment, he w.ill 
naturally follow this short and easy way of judging 
and believing in cases of less moment, and build all 
his opinions upon insullicient grounds. 

XII. In deteniiii]ing a ^ueption, especially when it is 
a matter of difficulty and importance, do not take up 
with partial examination, but turn your thoughts on all 
sides, to gather in all the light you can toward the 
solution of it. Take time, and use all the helps that are 
to be attained before yoo fully determine, except only 
where present necessity cf action Calls for speedy deter- 
mination. 

If you would know what may be called a partial ex- 
amination, take these instances, viz. 

When you examine an objeet of sense, or inquire iota 
some matter of sensation at too great a distance from, 
the object, or in an inconvenient sitiaation of it, or un- 
der any indisposition of the organs, or any disguisei 
whatsoever relating to the medium or the organ of the 
object itself; or when you exjunine it by one sense on- 
ly, where others might be employed ; or when you in- 
quire into it by sense only, without the use of the un- 
derstanding, and judgment, and reason. 

If it be a question which is to be determined by rea- 
son and argument, then your examination is partial, 
when you turn the question only in one light, and do 
rot turn it on all sides ; when you look upon it only h\ 
its relations and aspects to one sort of ofejects, and not 
to another ; when^ou consider only the advantages of 
it, and the reasons for it, and neglect to think of the 
jeasons against it, and never survey its inconveniences 
too ; when you determine on a sudden, before you hava 
given yourself a due time for weighing all circumstan- 
ces, &:c. 

Again, If it be a ijuestion of fact depending upon the 
report or testimony of men, your examination is but 
partial, when you inquire only what one man or a few 
saVj and avoid the testimony of others; when you only 
ask what those report who were not eye or ear 
witnesses, and neglect those who saw and heard 
it ; when you content yourself with mere loose andgen- 
eral talk about it, and never enter into particulars ; or 
when there are 9iany who deny the fact, and you n^vei+ 



17G IMPROVEMENT 

concern yourself about their reasons for denywig ii^ ^ 
but resolve to believe only those who affirm it. 

There is yet further a fault in your partial examina- 
tion of any question when you resolve to determine it 
by natural reason only, where you might be assisted by 
supernatural revelation ; or when you decide the point 
by some word or sentence, or by some part of revela- 
tion, without compafing it with other parts, which might 
give further light and better help to determine the 
meaning. 

It is also a culpable partiality if you examine some 
doubtful or pretended vision or revelation %vithout the 
use of reason ; or without the use of that revelation, 
•which is undoubted and sufficiently proved to be di- 
vine. These are all instances of imperfect examina- 
tion, and we should never determine a question by one 
or two lights, where we may have the advantage of 
three or four. 

XIII. Take heed lest some darling notion, some fa- 
Tourite hypothesis, some beloved doctrine, or some 
common but unexamined opinion, be made a test of 
the truth or falsehood of all other propositions about 
ijie same subject. Dare not build much upon such a 
notion or doctrine till it be very fully examined, accu- 
jrately adjusted, and sufficiently confirmed. Some per- 
sons, by indulging such a practice, have been led into 
long ranks of error ; they have found themselves in- 
volved in a train of mistakes, by taking up some petty 
bypothesis or princiiJle, either in philosophy, politics, 
or relieion, upon slight and insufficient grounds, and 
establishing that as a test and rule by which to judge 
of all other thing's. 

XIV. For the same reason, have a care of suddenly 
determining any one question on which the determi- 
nation of any kmdred or parallel cases will easily or 
naturally follow. Take heed of receiving any wrong 
turn in your early judgment of things ; be watchful as 
far as possible, against any false bias which may be 
f;iven to the understanding, especially in younger years. 
The indulgence of some one silly opinion, or the giving 
credit to one foolish fable, lays the mind open to be 
imposed upon by many. The ancient Romans were 
taught to believe that Romulus and Remus, the foun- 
ii^rs of their state and empire, were exposed in the 



OF THE MIND. 17T 

woods, and nursed by a wolf: This story prepared 
their minds for the reception of tales of the like nature 
relating to other countries. Trogns Pompeius Avould 
enforce the belief, that one of the ancient kings of 
Spain was also nursed and suckled by a hart, from the 
fable of Romulus and Remus. It was by the same in- 
lluence they learned to give up their hopes and fears 
to omens and soothsaying, when they were once per- 
suaded that the greatness of their empire, and the glory 
of Romulus their founder, were preaicted by the hap- 
py omen of twelve, vultures appearing to him when 
he sought where to build the city. They readily re- 
ceived all the following legends of prodigies, auguries, 
and prognostics, for many ages together, with which 
Livy has furnished his huge history. 

So the child who is once taught to believe any Oi^e 
occurrence to be a good or evil omen, or any day of 
the month or week to be lucky or unlucky, hath a wide 
inroad made on the soundness of his understanding in 
the following judgments of his life ; he lies ever open 
to all the silly impressions, and idle tales of nurses, and 
imbibes many a foolish story with greediness, which 
he must unlearn again, if ever he becomes acquainted 
with truth and wisdom. 

XV. Have a care of interesting your warm and re- 
ligious zeal in those matters which are not sufficiently 
evident in themselves, or which are not fully and tho- 
roughly examined and proved ; for this zeal, whether 
right or wrong, when it is once engaged, will have a 
powerful influence to establish your own minds in 
those doctrines which are really doubtful, and to stop 
up all the avenues of further light. This will bring 
upon the soul a sort of sacred awe and dread of here- 
sy ; with a divine concern to maintain whatever opinion 
you have espoused as divine, though perhaps you have 
espoused it j\'ithout any just evidence, and ought to have 
renounced it as false and pernicious. 

We ought to be zealous for the most important points 
of our religion, and to contend earnestly for the faith 
once delivered to the saints ; but we ought not to em- 
ploy this sacred fervour of spirit in the service of any 
article, till we have seen it made out with plain ant^ 
strong conviction, that it is a necessary or important 
point of faith or practice, and is either an evident die 



17 & IMPROVEMENT 

fate of the ii.^ht of nature, or an assured article of reve- 
lation. Zeal must not reign over the powers of our 
understanding, hut ohey them : G<ni is the God of light 
and truth, a God of reason and order, and he never rer 

Suires mankind to use their natural faculties amiss for 
le support of his cause. Even the most mysterious 
and sublime doctrines of revelation are not to be be- 
Iie\'ed without a just reason for it ; nor should our 
pious affections beengajjjed in the defence of them, till 
•we have plain and convincing proof that they are cer- 
tainly revealed, though perhaps we may never in this 
"world attain to sucii clear and distinct ideas of them as 
ive desire. 

XVI. As a warm zeal ought never to be ^mployd in 
the ^defence of any revealed truth, till our reason be 
well convinced of the revelation ; so neither should 
•wit and banter, jest and ridicule, ever be indulged to 
oppose or assault any doctrines of professed revelation, 
till reason has proved they are not really revealed ; and 
even then these methods should be used but very sel- 
dom, and with the utmost caution and prudence. 
Haillery and wit were never made to answer our in- 
ouiries after truth, and to determine a question of ra- 
tional controversy; though they may sometimes be 
serviceable to expose to contempt those inconsistent 
follies which have been first abundantly refuted by ar- 
gument; they serve indeed only to cover nonsense 
•with shame, -when reason has first proved it to be mere 
nonsense. 

It is therefore a silly and most unreasonabie test 
"which some of our deists have introduced to judge of 
divine revelation, viz. to try if it will hear ridicule and 
laughter. They are effectually beaten in all their com- 
bati at the weapons of men, that is, reason and argu- 
ment ; and it would not be unjust (though it is a little 
micourtly ) to say, that they would no w attack our religion 
•with the talents of a vile animal ; that is, grin and gri- 
mace. 

I cannot think that a jester or a monkey, a droll or a 
puppet, can be proper judges or deciders of contro- 
versy. That which dresses up all things in disguise, is 
not likely to lead us into any just sentiments about 
them. I^lato or Socrates, C»sar or Alexander, might 
have a fool's coat clapt upon any of them, and perhaps 
in this disguise, neither the wisdom of the-one, nortiie 



OF THE MIND. 179 

majesty of the other, would secure them from a sneer ; 
this treatment would never inform us whether they 
were kings or slaves, whether they were fools or phi- 
losophers. The strongest reasoning, the best sense, and 
the politest thoughts, may be set in a most ridiculous 
light by tbisgiinning faculty ; the most obvious axioms 
of eternal truth may be dressed in a very foolish form, 
and wrapped up in artful absurdities by this talent ; but 
they are truth and reason, and good sense still. Euclid, 
with ail his demonstrations, might be so covered and. 
overwhelmed with banter, that a beginner in the math- 
ematics might be tempted to doubt whether his theo- 
rems were true or no, and to imagine they could never* 
be useful. So weaker minds might be easily prejudi- 
ced against the noblest principle of truth and goodness - 
and the younger part of ratinkind might be beat off 
from the belief of the most serious, tlie most rational, 
and important points, even of natural rehgion, by the> 
impudent jests of a profane wit. The moral dqties of 
the civil life, as well as the articles of Christianity, may 
be painted over with the colours of folly, and exposed 
upon a stage, so as to ruin all social and personal virtues 
among the gay and thoughtless part of the world. 

XYII. It should be observed also, that these very- 
men cry out loudly against the use of all severe railing 
and reproach in debates, and all penalties and persecu- 
tions of the state, in order to convince the mmds and 
consciences of men, and determine points of truth and 
error. Now 1 renounce these penal and smarting meth- 
ods of conviction as much as they do, and yet I think^ 
still these are every whit as wise, as just, and as good 
for this purpose, as banter and ridicule. Why should 
public mockery in print, or a merry joke upon a stage, 
be a better test of truth, than severe railing sarcasms, 
and public persecutions and penalties ? Why should 
more light be derived to the understanding, by a song of 
scurrilous mirth, or a witty ballad, than there is by a 
rude cudgel ? When a professor of any religion is set 
up to be laughed at,! cannot see how this should help 
us to judge of the truth of his faith any better than if 
we were scourged. The jeers of a theatre, the pillory, , 
and the whippmg post, are very near akin. When the ^ 
person or his opinion is naade the jest of tiie inob= or"' 



180 DIPROVEMENT 

his back the shambles of the executioner, 1 think there 
is no more conviction in the one than in the other, 

XVIII. Besides supposing it is but barely possibla 
that the great God should reveal his mind and will to 
men by miracle, vision, or inspiration, it is a piece of 
contempt and profane insolence to treat any tolerable 
or rational appearance of such a revelation with jest and 
laughter, in order to find whether it be divine or not. 
And yet if this be a proper test of revelation, it may 
be properly applied to the true as well as the false, ia 
order to distinguish it. Suppose a royal proclamation 
Tvere sent to a distant part of the kingdom, and some of 
the subjects should doubt whether it came from the 
king or no: Is it possible that wit and ridicule should 
ever decide the pouit? Or would the prince ever think 
himself treated with just honour to have iiis proclama- 
tion canvassed in this manner on a public stage, and 
become the sport of buffoons, in order to determine 
the question, whether it is the word of a king or no .•' 

Let such sort of Avriters ^o on at th«ir dearest peril, 
and sport themselves in their own deceivings ; let them 
at their peril make a jest of the Bible, and treat the sa- 
cred articles of Christianity with scoff and merriment : 
but then let them lay aside" all their pretences to reason 
as well as religion ; and as they expose themselves by 
mch writings to the neglect and contempt of men, so 
let them prepare to meet the majesty and indignation 
of God without timely repentance. 

XrX. In reading philosophical, moral, or religious 
controversies, never raise your esteem of any opinion 
by the assurance and zeal wherewith the author asserts 
it, nor by the highest praises he bestows upon it ; nor 
on the other hand, let your esteem of an opinion be 
abated, nor j'^our aversion to it raised by the super- 
cilious contempt cast upon it by a warm writer, nor by 
the sovereign heirs with which he condemns it. Let 
the force of argument alone influence yourassentor dis- 
sent. Take cjire that your soul be not warped or biass- 
ed on one side or the other, by any strains of flattering 
or abusive language ; for there is no question whatsoev- 
^' er, but hath some such sort of defenders and opposers. 
^"^'^eave those WTiters to their own follies, who practice 
i^^hus upon the weakness of their readers without argu,- 



OF THE MIND. 18t 

ment; leave them to triumph in their own fancied 
possessions and victories ; it is oftentimes found that 
their possessions are but a heap of errors, and their 
boasted victories are but overbearing noise and clamour 
to silence the voice of truth. 

In philosophy and religion, the bigots of all parties 
are generally the most positive, and deal much in this 
sort of argumetJt. Sometimes these are the Aveapons 
of pride ; for a haughty man supposes all his ojjinions 
to be infallible, and imagines the contrarj^ sentiments 
are ever ridiculous, and not worthy: of notice. Some- 
times these ways of talking are the mere arms of 
ignorance: The men who use them know little of the 
opposite side of the question, and therefci'e they exult 
in their own vain pretences to UnowleAs^^jas though no 
man of sense could oppose their op'nions. They rail 
•^at an objection against thei.- own sentlmeiits, because 
they can find no other answer <o it but railing. And 
men of learning, by their exce=5sive vanity, have been 
sometimes tempted into the same insoleat practice, as 
well as the ignorant. 

Yet let it be rem^emJtered too, that there are some 
truths so plain and evident, that the opposition to them 
h strange, unaccountalie, and almost monstrous ; and 
in vindication of such truths, a writer af good sense 
may sometimes be allowed to use a degree of assurance, 
and pronounce theai strongly with an air of confidence, 
while he defends them with reasons of convincing 
force. 

XX. Sometimes a question may be proposed which 
h of so large and extensive a nature, and refers to such a 
muJtituile of subjects, as ought not in justice to be 
determined at once by a single argument or answer; as 
if one should ask me. Are you a professeddisciple of the 
Stoics or the Platonists ? Do you receive and assent to 
the principles of Gassendus, Descartes, or Sir Isaac 
Newton ? Have you chosen the hypothesis of Tycho 
or Copernicus? Have you devoted yourself to the 
sentiments of Arminius or Calvin ? Are your notions 
Episcopal, Presbyterian, or Independent ? &c. I think 
it may be very proper in such cases not to give an an= 
swer in the gross, but rather to enter into a detail 
«!)f particulars, and explain ones own sentiments. 



tm IMPROVEMENT 

Perhaps there is no man, nor set of men, upon earfhr^ 
whose sentiments I entirely follow. God has given me 
reason to judge for myself, and though I may see sufEL- 
cient ground to agree to the greatest part of the opin- 
ions of one person or party, yet it does by no means 
follow that 1 should receive them all. Truth does not 
always go by the lump, nor does error tincture and 
spoifall the articles of belief thxit some one party pro- 
fessf's. 

Since there are difficulties attend every scheme of 
human knowledge, it is enough for me in the main 
to incline to that side which has the fewest difficulties j 
and I would endeavour, as far as possible, to correct the 
mistakes or the harsh expressions of one party, by 
softening and rtconcilin^ methods, by reducing the ex- 
tremes, and by borrowing some of the best principles 
or ph.rases from ano\her. Cicero was one of the great- 
est men of antiquity, atxl gi\ ei? us an account of the 
various opinions of phj'osophers in his age ; but he 
himself was of the electic sect, and chose out of each 
of them such positions as in Vjis wisest judgment came 
Dearest to the truth. 

XXI. When you are called in the course of life or 
religionto judge and determine concerning any ques- 
tion, and to affirm or deny it, take a full survey of the 
objections against it, as well as of ibe argumer^s for it 
as far as your time and circumstances admit, and see 
on Avhich side the preponderation falls. If either the 
objections against any proposition, or the arguments 
foi- the defence of it, carry in them most urMioubted 
evidence, and are plainly unanswerable, they will and 
ought to constrain the* assent, though there may be 
many setming probabilities on the other side, which at 
first sight would flatter the iudgraent to favour it. But 
where the reasons on both sides are very near of equal 
weight, there suspension, or doubt is our duty, unless 
in cases wherein present determination or practice is 
required, and there we must act according to the present 
appearingpreponderation of reasons. 

XXTI. ni matters of moment and importance, it is 
our dut)' indeed to seek after certain and conclusive 
arguments, (if they can be fouiid) in order to determine 
a .question ; but where the matter is of little conse- 



OF THE MIND. 183 

quenceit IS not worth our labour to spend much time in 
seeking after certainties ; it is sufficient here, if probable 
reasons offer themselves. And even in matters of 
greater inaportance, especially where daily practice is 
necessary, and where we cannot attain any sufficient or 
certain grounds to determine a question on either side, 
we must then take up with such probable arguments 
as we can arrive at. But this general nUe should be 
observed, viz. to take heed that our assent be no strong- 
er, or rise no higher in the degree -of it, than the proba- 
h\e argument will support. 

XXIIl. There are many things, even in religion, as 
well as in philosophy and civil life, which we believe 
tvith very different degrees of assent ; and this is or 
should be always regulated according to the different 
degrees of evidence which we enjoy ; and perhaps 
there are a thousand gradations in our assent to the 
things we believe, because there are thousands of cir- 
cumstances relating to different questions, which in- 
crease or diminish the evidence we have concerning 
them, and that in matters both of reason and revelation. 

1 believe there is a €fod, and that obedience is due to 
him from every reasonable creature ; this I ani most 
fully assured of, because 1 have the strongest evidence, 
since it is the plain dictate both of reason and revela- 
tion. 

Again, I believe there is a future resurrection of the 
dead, because scripture tells us so in the plainest terms, 
though reason says nothing -of it. I believe also that 
the same matter of our bodies which died (in part at 
least) shall ad?e ; but 1 am not so fully assured of this 
circumstance, because the revelation of it is not quite 
so clear and express. Yet further I believe, that the 
good men who were acquainted here on earth shall 
know each other in heaven ; but my persuasion of it is 
not absolutely certain, beeatise my assent to it arises 
only from circumstantial reasonings of men upon what 
Gocl has told us, and therefore my evidences are not 
strong beyond a possibility of mistake. This direc- 
tion cannot 1k'. too often repeated, that our assent ought 
always to ke«p pace with our evidence; and our belief 
of any proposition should never rise higher than the 
proof, or evidence we have to support it, nor should 
cKir faitli run faster than right reason can encourage it 



184 IMPROVEMENT 

XXIV. Perhaps it will be objected here, why thca 
does -our Saviour, in the histories of tho Gospel, sa 
much commend a stren?; l'nith, and lay out both liis 
miraculous benefits and his praises upon some of those 
poor creatures of little reasoning, who professed ait 
assured belief of his commission and power to heal 
them ? 

I answer, tlue tJod of nature has given every man 
his own reason, to be the judge of evidence to him- 
self, in particular, an-d to direct his assent in all things 
about which he i;> called to Judge; and even the mat- 
ters of revelation are to be believed by us, because our 
reason pronounces the revelation to be true. There- 
fore the great God will not, or cannot, in any instance, 
require us to assent to any thing without reasonable or 
sufficient evidence, nor to believe any proposition more 
strongly than what our evidence for it will support. 
We have therefore abundant ground to believe that 
those persons of whom our Saviour requires such 
strong faith, or whom he commends for their strong 
faith, had as strong and certain evidence of his power 
and commission from the credible and incontestible 
reports they had heard of his miracles, which were 
wrought on purpose to give evidence to his commis- 
sion.* Now in such a case, both this strong faith and 
the open profession of it, were very worthy of public 
encouragement and praise from our Saviour, because 
of the great and public opposition which the magis- 
trates and the priests, and the doctors of the age, made 
against Jesws, the man of Nazareth, when he appeared 
as the Messiah. 

And besides all this, it may be reasonably supposed, 
with regard to some of those strong exercises of faith 
which are required and commended, that these believ- 
ers had some further hints of inward evidence and im- 
mediate i-evelation from God himself; as when St. Pe- 

* TVTien our Saviour gently reproves Thomas for his unbelief, (John 
XX. 2d.) he does ii in these words: " Bfcniise thou bast seen me, Thom- 
as, thou hast believed ; blessed iire ihej* who have not seen, and yet hnvc 
belii-vcd," L e. "Blessetl are they who, "thou rrh they have not beeii favour- 
ed with the evi<ienre of tlieir senses as thou ha'st been, yet have been 
convinced by the reasonable and suffifient moral evidence of the well 
grnanded re^>o' • of others, and hnvt^ believed in me upon that evidence." 
Of tbis niorat evid<-nce Mr. Ditton writes exceedingly well in hi» book 
of the Resurr^ctien of Cbriit. 



OF THE MIND. 185 

ter confesses Christ to he the Son of God, Matt. xvl. 
IQ, 17, our blessed Saviour commends him, saying, 
" Blessed art thou Simon Barjona :" But he adds, 
" Flesh and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my 
Father which is in heaven." 

And the same may be said respecting the faith of 
miracles, the exercise of which was sometimes required 
of the disciples and others ; i. c. when by inward nnd 
divine influences, God assured them such miracles 
should be wrought, their obedience to and compliance 
with these divine illuminations was expected a«<i com- 
mended. Now this supernattu-al inspiration carried 
sufficient evidence with it to them, as well as to the an- 
cient prophets,though we who never felt it are not so 
capable to judjje and distinguish it. 

XXV. AVhathssaid before concernin^truth ordoctrines 
may be also affirmed concerning duties ; the reason of 
both is the same ; as the one are truths for our Sf»ecu- 
lation, the others are truths for our practice. I)uties 
which are expressly required in the plain languagie of 
scripture, or dictated by the most evident reasoning 
upon first principles, ought to bind our consciences 
more than tnose which are but dubiously inferred, and 
that only from occasional occurrences, incidents, and 
circumstances ; as for instance, I am certain that I 
ought to pray to God ; my conscience is bound to this, 
because there are most evident commands for it to be 
found in scripture, as weli as to be derived from reason. 
1 believe also that 1 may pray to Go-1, either by a writ- 
ten form, or without one, because neither reason nor 
revelation expressly requires either, of these modes of 
prayer at all times, or forbids the other. I cannot 
therefore bind toy conscience to practise the one so as 
utterly to renounce the other ; but F would practise 
either of them as my reason and other circumstances 
direct me. 

Again, I believe that Christians ought to remember 
the death of Christ by the symbols of bread and wine ; 
and I believe there ought to be pastors in a Christian 
church some way ordained or set apart to lead the 
worship, and to bless and distribute these elements; 
but the last of these practices is not so expressly direct- 
^, prescribed, and required in scripture as the former s 



186 IMPROVEMENT 

and therefore I feel my conscience evidently bound t© 
remember the death of Christ with some society of 
Christians or other, since it is a most plain command, 
tiiough their methods of ordaining a pastor be very 
different from other men, or from my own opinion ; 
or whether the person who distributes these elements 
be only an occasional or a settled administrator; since 
none of these things are plainly determined in scrip- 
ture. I must not omit or neglect an express command, 
because some unnecessary circumstances are dubious. 
And I trust I shall receivf. approbation from the God 
of nature, and from Jesus my Judge at the last day, if 
I have endeavoured in this manner to believe and prac- 
tice every thing in proportion to the degree of evidence 
which God has ^iven me about it, or which he has pui 
me into a capacity to seek and obtain in the age and 
nation wherein I live. 

Query. Whether the obstinate Deists, and Fatalists 
of Great Britain, will find sufficient apology from 
this principle ? But I leave them to venture the awful 
experiment. 

XXVI. We may observe these three rules, in judg- 
ing of probabilities which are to be determined 
by reason, relating either to things past, or things to 
come. 

1. That which agrees most Avith the constitution of 
nature carries the greatest probability in it, where no 
other circumstance appears to counterpoise it ; as, if 
I let loose a greyhound within sight of a have upon a 
large plain, there is great probability that the grey- 
houna will seize her; that .a thousand sparrows will 



fly away at the sight of a hawk among them. 

2. That which is most conformable to the constant 
observations of men, or to experiments frequently re- 
peated, is most likely to be true ; as, that a winter will 
not pass away in England without some frost and snow ; 
that if you deal out great quantities of strong liquor to 
the mob, there will be many drunk ; that a large assem- 
bly of men will be of different opinions in any doubt- 
ful point; that a thief will make his escape out of 
prison, if the doors of it are unguarded at midnight. 

3. In matters of fact, which are past or present, 
where neither nature, nor observation, nor custom, 
gives us any sufficieiit iuformation on either side of the 



OF THE MIND, 18T 

-^jucstion, there we may derive a probability from the at- 
testation of wise and honest men by word or writing, 
or the concurring witnesses of multitudes who have 
seen and known what they relate, &c. This testimony 
in many cases will arise to the degree of moral certain- 
ty. So we brieve that the plant tea grows in China ; 
and that the Emperor of the Turks lives at Constanti- 
nople ; that Julius Cajsar conquered France, and that 
Jesus our Saviour lived and died in Judea ; that thous- 
ands were converted to the Christian faith in a century 
after the death of Christ; and that the books which 
contain the religion are certain histories and epistles 
which were written above athousand years ago. There 
is an infinite variety of such propositions which can 
admit of no reasonable doubt, though they are not 
matters which are directly evident to our own senses, 
or our mere reasoning pow ers. 

XXVIl. When a point hath been well examinedj 
and our own judgment settled upon just arguments 
in our manly age, and after a large survey of the merits 
of the cause, it would be a weakness for us always to 
continue fluttering in suspense. We ought therefore to 
stand firm in such well-established principles, and not 
be tempted to change and alter for the sake of every 
difficulty, and every occasional objection. We are not 
to be carried about with every flying doctrine, like 
children tossed to and fro, and wavering with the wind. 
It is a good thing to have the heart established with 
^race, not with meats, that is, in the great doctrines of 
the gospel of grace, and in Jesus Christ, who is the 
same yesteixiay, to-day, and for ever ; but it is not so 
necessary in the more minute matters of religion, such 
as meats and drinks, forms and ceremonies, which are 
of less importance, and for which scripture has not 
given such express directions. This is the advice of 
the great Apostle, Eph. iv. 14. Heb. xiii. 8, 9. 

In short, those truths which are the springs of daily 
practice should be settled as soon as we can with the 
exercise of our best powers, after the state of manhood ; 
but those things wherein we may possibly mistake^, 
should never be so absolutely and finally established 
and determined, as though we W6re infallible. If 1 he 
Papists of Great Britain had maintained such a resolute 



188 IMPROVEMENT 

establishment and as?urance in the days of King Henry 
the VIII, or Queen Elizabeth, there never had been a 
reformation ; nor would any Heathen have been con- 
verted even under the ministry of St. Paul, if their 
obstinate settlement in their idolatries had kept their 
eyes shut against all further light. Yet this should not 
liinder us from settling our most important principles 
of faith and practice, where reason shines with its 
clearest evidence, and the word of God plainly deter- 
mines truth and duty. 

XXVIII. But let us remember also, that though the 
gospel be an infallible revelation, we are but fallible in- 
terpreters, when we determine the sense even of some 
important propositions written there ; and therefore, 
though we seem to be established in the belief of any 
particular sense of scripture, and though there may be^ 
just calls of Providence to profess and subscribe it, 
yet there is no need that we should resolve or promise, 
subscribe or swear, neverto change our mind ; since it 
is possible, in the nature and course of things, we may 
meet with such a solid and substantial objection, as may 
give us quite a different view of things from what we 
once imagined, and may lay before us sufficient evidence 
of the contrary. We may happen to find a fairer light 
cast over the same scriptures, and see reason to alter 
our sentiments even in some points of moment. Sic 
stniio, sic sentiam, i. e. So I believe, and so I will be- 
lieve, is the prison of the soul for life-time, and a bar 
against all the improvements of the mind. To impose 
such a profession on other men in matters not absolute- 
ly necessary, and not absolutely certain, is a criminal 
usurpation and tyranny over faith and conscience, 
and none has power to require it but an infallible dic- 
tator. 

CHAP. XIX. 

Of Inquiring into Causes and Effects. 

oOME effects are found out by their causes^ and 
some causes by their effects. Let us consider both 
these. 

1. When we are inquiring into the causes of any 
particular effect or appearance, either in the world of 



OF THE MlNIh 189 

nature, ot iu tlie civil or moral concerns of men, we 
may follow this method : 

1. Consider what etfects or appearances you have 
known of :i kindred natare, and what have been the 
C-Ttain aad real causes of them ; for like effects have 
generally like causes, especially when they arc found 
ill the same sort jf suijjects. 

2. Consider what are tho several possible causes 
which may produce such an effect; and find out by 
some circumstances how many of those possible cau- 
ses are excluded in this parlicular case ; thence proceed 
by degrees to the pronahle causes, till a more close 
attention and inspection shall exclude some of them 
also, and lead you gradually to the real aiid certain 
cause. 

3. Consider Avhat things preceded such and event or 
appearance, which might have any influence upon it; 
and though we cannot certainly determine the cause 
of any thing only from its going before the effect, yet 
among the many forerunners, we may probably lijjht 
upon the true cause by further and more particular m- 
quiry. 

4. Consider whether one cause be sufficient to pro^ 
duce the effect, or whether it does not require a con- 
currence of several causes ; and then endeavour as far 
as possible to adjust the degrees of influence that 
«ach cause might nave in producing the effect, and the 
proper agency and influence of each t)f them therein. 

So in natural philosophy, if I would find what are 
the principles or causes of that sensation which we 
call heat when I stand near the fire ; here I shall find 
it is necessary that there be an agenjcy of the particles 
of fire on my flesh, either immediately by themselves, 
or at least by the intermediate air ; there must be a par- 
ticular sort of motion and vellication imprest upon my 
nei-ves ; there must be a derivation of that motion to 
the brain ; and there must be ah attention of my soul 
to this motion ; if either of these are wanting, the sen- 
sation of heat will riot be produced. 

So in the moral world, if I inquire into the revolu- 
tion of a state or kingdom, perhaps I find it brought 
about by the tyranny or folly of a prince, or by the 
disaffection of his own subjects ; and this disaffection 
and opposition may arise, either upon the account of 



IQO IMPROVEMENT 

impositions in religion, or injuries relating to their civU. 
rights; or the revolution may be eflected by the inva- 
sion of a foreign army, or by the opposition of some 
person at home or abroad, that lays claim to the gov- 
ernment, Sec. or a hero who would guard the liberties 
of the people ; or by many of these concurring togeth- 
er ; then we must adjust the influences of each as 
■wisely as we can, and^not ascribe the whole event to one 
of them alone. 

II. When we are inquiring into the effects of any 
particular cause or causes, we may follow this meth- 
od : 

1. Consider diligently the nature of every cause 
apart, and observe what effect every part, or property 
of it will tend to produce. 

2. Consider the causes united together in their seve- 
ral natures, and ways of operation ; inquire how far 
the powers or properties of one will hinder or promote 
the effects of tne other, and wisely balance the propor- 
tions of their influence. 

5. Consider what the subject is, in or upon which 
the cause is to operate ; for the same cause on differ- 
ent subjects will oftentimes produce different effects, as 
the sun which softens wax, will harden clay. 

4. Be frequent and diligent in making all proper 
experiments, in setting such causes at work whose ef- 
fects VfU desire to know, and putting together in an 
orderly manner such things as are most likely to produce 
some useful effects, according to the best surve}'^ you 
can take of all the concurring causes and circumstances. 

G. Observe carefully all the events which happen 
cither by an occasional concurrence of various causes, 
or by the industrious application of knowing men ; 
and w hen you see any happy effect certainly produced, 
and often repeated, treasure it up, together with the 
known causes of it, amongst your improvements. 

6. Take a just survey of all the circumstances which 
attend the operation of any cause or causes, whereby 
any special effect is produced, and find out as far as 
possible how far any of those cirQumstances had a tea- 
dency either to obstruct or promote, or change those 
operations, and consequently how far the effect might 
be influenced by them. 

In this manner physicians practise and improve theii 



OF THE MIND. jgfl 

^kill. They consider the various known eSTects of partic- 
ular herbs or dru^s, they meditate what will be the effects 
of their composition, and whether the virtnes of the 
t)ne will exalt or diminish the force of the other, or cor- 
rect any of its innocent qualities. Then they observe 
the native constitution, and the present temper or cir- 
cumstances of the patient, and what is likely to be the 
effect of such a medicine on such a patient. And in all 
uncommon cases, they make wise and cautious expeH- 
ments, and nicely observe the effects of particular 
compound medicines on different constitutions, and in 
different diseases ; and by these treasures of just obser- 
vations, they grow up to an honourable degree of skill 
in the art of healing. 

So the preacher considers the doctrines and reasons, 
precepts, promises and threatenings of the Word of 
God, and what are the natural effects of them upon the 
Juind ; he considers what is the natural tendency ot 
such a virtue oi* such a vice ; he is well apprized that 
the representation of some of these things may convince 
t"he understanding, some may terrify the conscience, 
some may allure the slothful, and some encourage the 
desponding mind; he observes the temper of his hccir- 
ers, or of any particular person that converses with 
him about things sacred, and he judges what will be 
the effects of each representation on such persons; he 
reviews anti recollects what have been the effects of 
some special parts and methods of his ministry ; and 
by a careful survey of all these, he attains greater de- 
grees of skill in his sacred employment. 

JVote. — In all these cases we must distinguish those 
causes and effects which are naturally and necessarily 
connected with each other, from those which have only 
an accidental or contingent connexion. Even in those 
causes where the efiect is but contingent, we may 
sometimes arrive at a very high degree of probability ; 
yet we cannot arrive at such certainty as where the 
causes operate by an evident and natural necessity, 
and the effects necessarily follow the operation. 
_ See more on this subject, Logic, J»art II. Chap. V. - 
Sect. 7. 



19a IMPROVEMENT 

CHAP. XX, 

Of the Sciences J and their Use in particular Pro- 
fessions, 

1 . 1 HE best way to learn any science, is to begin with 
a regular system, or a short and plain scheme of that 
science, well drawn up into a narrow compass, omit- 
ting the deeper and more abstruse parts of it, and that 
also under the conduct and instruction of some skilful 
teacher. S^'stems are necessary to give an eritire and 
comprehensive view of the several parts of any science, 
which may have a mutual influence towards the expli- 
cation or proof of each other ; whereas, if a man deJils 
always and only in essays and discourses on particular 
parts of a science, he wMl nevrr obtain a distinct and 
just idea of the whole, and may perhaps omit some im- 
portant part of it, after seven years reading of such 
occasional discourses. 

For this reason, young students should apply them- 
selves to their systems much more than pamphlets. 
That man is never so fit to judge of particular subjects 
relating to any science who has never taken a survey 
of the whole. 

It is the remark of an ingenious writer, should a bar- 
barous Indian, who had never seen a palace? or a ship, 
view their separate and disjointed parts, and observe the 
pillars, doors, windows, cornices, and turrets of the 
one, or the prow and stern, the ribs pnd masts, the 
ropes and shrouds, the sails and tackle of the other, 
he would be able to form but a ver/ lame and dark 
idea of either of those excellent ani useful inventions. 
In like manner, those who contemplate only the frag- 
ments or pieces broken ott* from any Science, dispersed 
in short unconnected discourses, and do not discern 
their relation to each other, and how they may be 
adapted, and by their union procure the delightful 
symmetry of a regular^scheme, can never survey an en- 
tire body of truth, but must always view it as deformed 
and dismembered ; while their ideas, which must be ev- 
er indistinct, and often repugnant, will lie in the brain 
unsorted, and thrown together without order or cohe- 
rence ; such is the knowledge of those men Who live up- 
on the scraps tf th^ sciences. 



OF THE MINI). 19S 

A youth of genius and lively imagination, of an ac- 
tive and Ibrvvard spirit, may form Avilhin himself some 
alluring scenes and pleasing schemes in the beginning 
of a science, which are utterly inconsistent with some 
of the necessary and substantial parts of it, which ap- 
pear in the middle or the end. And if he never 
read and pass through the whole, he takes up and is 
satisfied with his own hasty pleasing schemes, and 
treasures these errors up amongst his solid acquisitions ; 
whereas his own labour and study farther pursued,, 
would have shown him hrs early mistakes, and cm-ed 
him of his self flattering delusions. 

Hence it comes to pass, that we have so many half 
scholars now a days, and there is so much confusion and 
inconsistency in the notions and opinions of some 
persons, because they devote their hours of study en- 
tirely to short essays and pamphlets, and cast contempt 
upon the systems, under a pretence of greater polite- 
ness; whereas the true reason of this contempt of 
systematical learning, is mere lavsiness and want of 
jud;;meiit. 

II. After we are grown well acquainted with a short 
system or con)pendium of a science, which is written 
in the plainest and most simple manner, it is then 
proper to read a large regular treatise on that subject, 
if we design a complete knowledge and cultivation of 
it; and either while we are reading this larger system^ 
or after we have done it, then occasional discourses and 
essays upon the particular subjects and parts of that 
science, may be read with the gre^atest profit ; for in these 
essays we may often find very considerable corrections 
and improvements of what these compends, or even 
the larger systems may have taught us, mingled with 
some mistakes. 

And these corrections or improvements should be as 
remarks adjoined by way of note or commentary in 
their proper places, and superadded to the regular trea- 
tise we have read. Then a studious and judicious re- 
view of the whole will give us a tolerable acquaintance 
with that science. 

III. It is a great happiness to have such a tutor, or 
such friends and companions at hand, who are able to 
inform us what are the best books written on any sci- 
ence, or any special part of it For want of this advan- 
Pt 



104 IMPROVEMENT 

tage, many h man has wasted his thne rn rnading ovef 
perhaps some whole volumes, and learnt little more 
by it than to know that those volumes were not worth 
his reading. 

, IV. As for the langu-ij^es, they are certainly best 
learnt in the younger years of life. The memory is 
then most empty and' unfurnished, and ready to re- 
ceive new ideas continually. We find the children, in 
two years time after they are born, learn to speak their 
native tongue. 

V. The mere abstracted sciences, whitth depend 
more upon the understanding and judgment, and which 
deal much in abstracted ideas, should not be imposetl 
upon children too soon ; such are lop;ic, metaphysics, 
ethics, politics, or the depths and difficulties of gram- 
mar and criticism. Yet it must be confessed, fir^it the 
rudiments of grammar are necessary, or at least very 
convenient to be known, wheri a youth le^irns a new 
language ; and some general easy principles and rules 
of morality and divinity are needful, in order to teach 
a child his duty to God and man; but to enter far into 
abstracted reasonings on these subjects is beyond the 
capacity of children. 

VI. There are several of the sciences that will more 
agreeably employ our younger years, and the general 
parts of them may be easily taken in by boys. The 
first principles and easier practices of arithmetic, geom- 
etry, plain trigonometry, measuring heights, dej)!]!.^, 
lengths, distances, fee. the rudiments of geography and 
astronomy, together with something of mechanics, 
may he easily conveyed into the minds of acute young 
persons from nine or ten ynars old and u})w:uds.— ^ 
These studies may be entertaining and useful to yoiuig 
ladies as well as to gentlemen, and to all those who ant 
bred up to the learned professions. The fair sex may 
intermmgle those with the operations of the needle, 
and the knowledge of domestic life. Boys may be 
taught to join them with their rudiments of grammar, 
and their labour in the languages. And evea those 
who never learn any languaeje but their mother tongue, 
may be taught these sciences with lasting benefit in 
early days. 

That this may be done with ease and advantage, 
take these three rensons : 



OF THE MIND. ia5 

(1.) Because they depend so much upon schemes and 
numbers, images, lines, and figures, and sensible things, 
liiat the imagination or fancy will greatly assist the 
understanding, and render the knowledge of them 
much more easy. 

(£.) These studies are so pleasant, that they will 
make the dry labour of learnmg words, phrases, and 
languages, more tolerable to boys in a Latin school, 
by this most agreeable mixture. The employment 
of youth in these studies, will tempt them to neglect 
many of the foolish plays of childhood, and they will 
find sweeter entertainment for themselves and their 
leisure hours, by a cultivation of these pretty pieces 
of alluring knowledge. 

(3.) The knowledge of these parts" of science are 
both easy and worthy to be retained in the memory by 
all children when they come to manly years, for they 
are useful through all the parts of human life : They 
tend to enlarge the understanding early, and to give a 
various acquaintance with useful subjects by times. 
And surely it is best, as far as possible, to train up chil- 
dren in the knowledge of tnose things which they 
should never forget, rather than to let them waste years 
of life in trifles, or in hard words which are not worth 
reroembering. 

' And here hy the way, I cannot but wonder that any 
author in our age should have attempted to teach any 
of the exploded physics of Descartes, or the nobler 
inventions of Sir Isaac Newton in his hypothesis of 
the heavenly bodies and their motions, in his doctrine 
of light and colours, and other parts of his physiology, 
or to instruct children in the knowledge of the theory 
of the heavens, earth, and planets, without any figures 
or diagrams. Is it possible to give a boy or a young la- 
dy the clear, distinct, and proper apprehensions of these 
things without lines and figures to describe them ? Does 
not their understanding want the aid of fancy and im^- 
^es to convey stronger and juster ideas of them to the 
inmost soul? Or do they imagine that youth can pene- 
trate into all these beauties .and artifices of nature, 
"without those which persons of matui'er age find ne- 
cessary for that purpose ? I would not willingly name 
the books, because some of the writers are said to be 
gentleraen orexcelleHt acquirements. 



.106 IMPROVEMENT 

VII. After we have first learnt and gone through any 
-of those arts or sciences -which are to be explained by 
diagrams, figures, and schemes, such as geometry, geog- 
raphy, astronomy optics, mechanics, &:c. we may best 
preserve them in memory, by having tho^e schemes and 
figures in large sheets of paper, hanging always before 
the eye in closets, parlours, halls, chambers, entries, 
staircases, &lc. Thus the learned images will be per- 
petually imprest on the brain, and will keep the learn- 
ing that depends upon them alive and fresh in the mind 
through the o:rowmg years of life ; the mere diagrams 
and figures will ever recal to our thoughts those theo- 
rems, problems, and corollorics which have been de- 
monstrated by them. 

It is incredible how much geography may be learnt 
this way by the two terrestrial hemispheres, and by par- 
ticular maps and charts of the coasts and countries of 
the earth, happily disposed round about us. Thus we 
may learn also the constellations, by just projections 
of the celestial sphera, hung up in the same manner. 
And I must confess, for the bulk of learners of astrono- 
my, 1 like that projection of the stars best, which in- 
cludes in it all the stars in our horizon, and therefore 
it reaches to the 38^ degrees of southern latitude, 
though its centre be the north nole. This gives us a 
better view of the heavenly bodies as they appeaf 
ever^ night to us ; and it may be made use of with a 
little instruction, and with ease, to serve for a nocturnal, 
and show the true hour of the night. 

But reiB^mher, that if there be any colouring upoi> 
these maps, or projections, it should be laid on so thin 
as not to obscure or conceal any part of the lines, fig- 
ures, or letters ; whereas most times they are daubed 
so thick with gay and glaring colours, and hung up so 
high above the reach of the eye that should survey and 
read them, as though their only design were to make a 
gaudy show upon the wall, and they hung there merrily 
to cover the naked plaister or wainscot. Those scien- 
ces which may be drawn out into tables may also be 
thus hung up and disposed in proper places, such as 
brief a'nstracts of history, chronclo^, tec. and indeed 
the schemes of any of the arts or sciences may be ana- 
Uzed in a sort of skeleton, and represented upon tables, 
witli various dependencies ana connexions of the?r 



OF THE MIND. 1D7 

several parts and subjects that belong to them. Mr° 
Solomon Lowe has happily thrown the gjrammar of 
several languages into such tables ; and a frequent re- 
view of these abstracts and epitomes would tend much 
to imprint them on the brain, when they have been 
once well learned ; this would keep those learned tra- 
ces always open, and assist the weakness of a labouring 
nieraory. In this manner may a scheme of the scrip- 
ture history be drawn out, and perpetuate those ideas 
in the mind with which our daily reading furnishes us. 
VIIL Every man who pretends to the character of 
a scholar should attain some general and superficial 
idea of most or allthe sciences; fbrthereisa certaincon- 
nexion amongthe various parts of human knowledge, s& 
that some notions borrowed from any one science may 
assist our acquaintance with any other, either by way of 
explication, illustration, or proof, though there are 
some sciences conjoined by a much nearer affinity than 
ethers. 

IX. Let those parts of every science be chiefly studi- 
ed at first, and reviewed afterwards, which have a 
more direct tendency to assist our proper profession, as 
men, or our general profession as Christians, always 
observing what we ourselves have found most necessa- 
ry and useful to us in the course of our lives. Age and 
experience will ttach us to judge which of the 
sciences, and which parts of them have been of great- 
est use, and are most valuable : but in younger years 
of life we are not sufficient judges of this matter^ 
and therefore should seek advice from others who are 
elder. 

X. There are three learned professions among us, 
viz. divinity, law, and medicine. Though every man 
■who pretends to be a scholar or a gentJeman, should so 
far acquaint himself with a superficial scheme of all 
the sciences, as not to stand amazed like a mere stran- 
ger at the mention of the common subjects that belong 
to them ; yet there is no necessity for every man of 
learning to enter into their difficulties and deep recess- 
es, nor to climb the heights to which some others have 
an-iA-^ed. The knowledge of them in a proper measure 
may be happily useful to every profession^ not only be- 
cause all arts and sciences have a sort of communion 

R 2 



198 IMPROVEMENT 

and connexion with each other, but it is an angelic 
pleasure to grow in knowledge, it is a matter of honour 
and esteem, and renders a man more agreeable and 
acceptable in ever} comJ>anJ^ 

But let us survey several of them more particularly, 
■u'ith regard to the learned professions ; and first of the 
mathematics. 

XL Though I have so often commended mathe- 
matical studies, and particularly the speculations of 
arithmetic and geometry as a means to tix a wavering 
mind, to beget an habit of attention, and to improve 
the faculty of reason ; yet 1 would by no means be 
understood to recommend to all a pursuit of these 
sciences to those extensive lengths to which the mod- 
erns have advanced them. This is neither necessary 
nor proper for any students, but those few who shall 
make these studies their chief profession and business 
of life, or those gentlemen whose capacities and turn 
of mind are suited to these studies, and have all manner 
of advantage to improve in them. 

The general principles of arithmetic, algebra, geom- 
etry, and trigonometry, of geography, of modern as- 
tronomy, mechanics, statics, and optics, have their 
valuable and excellent uses, not only for the exercise 
and improvement of the faculties of the mind, but the 
subjects themselves are very well worth our knowledge 
in a moderate degree, and are often made of admirable 
service in human life. So much of these subjects as 
Dr. Wells has given us in his three volumes, entitled, 
" The Yoiing Gentleman^s Mathematics " is richly suffi- 
cient for the greatest part of scholars or gent'enien ; 
though perhaps there may be some single treatises, at 
least on some of these suhjects, which may be better 
written and more useful to be i)erused, than those of 
that learned author. 

But a penetration into the abstruse difficulties and 
depths of modern algebra and fluxions, the various 
methods of quadratures, the mensuration of all manner 
of curves, and their mutual transformation, and twenty 
other things tliat some modern mathematicians deal in^ 
are not worth the labour of those w ho design either of 
the three learned professions, divinity, law, or physic, 
;i< the buisness of life. This is the sentence of n con- 



OF THE MIND. 199 

siderable man, viz. Dr. George Cheyne, who was a very 
good proficient and writer on these subjects : Heaffirms, 
that they are but barren and airy studies for a man 
entirely to live upon, and that for a man to indulge and 
riot in these exquisitely bewitching contemplations, is 
only proper for public professors, or for gentlemen of 
estates, who have a strong propensity this Way^ and 
a genius fit to cultivate them. ; 

But, says he, to own a great but grievous truth, tnx>ugli 
they may quicken and sharpen the invention, strengthen 
and extend the imagination, improve and refine the 
reasoning faculties, and are of use both in the necessary 
and the luxurious refinement of the mechanical arts ; 
yet, having no tendency to rectify the will, to sweeten 
the temper, or mend the heart, they often leave a 
stiffness, a positiveness and sufficiency on weak minds, 
which is much more pernicious to society, and to the 
interests of the great end of our being, than all their 
advantages can recompense. He adds further, con- 
cerning the launching into the depth of these studies, 
that they are apt to beget a secret and refined pride, 
and over weening and over bearing vanity, the most 
opposite teiTi{>er to the true spirit of the gospel. This 
tempts them to presume on a kind of omniscience in 
respect to their fellow creatures, who have not risen to 
their elevation ; nor are they fit to be trusted in the 
hands of any but those who have acquired a humble 
heart, a lowly spirit, and a sob^r and teachable temper. 
See Dr. Cheyne's preface to his Essay on Health and 
Long Life. 

Xn. Some of the practical parts of geometry, 
astronomy, dialling, optics, statics, mechanics, &;c. may 
be agreeable entertainments and amusements to stu- 
dents in every profession, at leisure hours, if they enjoy 
such circumstances of life as to furnish them with cori- 
veniencies for this sort of improvement ; but let them 
take great care lest they entrench upon more necessary 
employments, and so fall under the charge and censure 
of wasted time. 

Yet I cannot help making this observation, that where 
students, or indeed any young gentlemen, have in their 
early years made themselves masters of a variety of 
elegant problems in the mathematical circle of know- 
ledge, and gained the most easy, neat, and entertaining: 



SOO IMPROVEMENT 

experiments in natural philosophy, with some short and 
agreeable speculations or practices in any other of the 
art3 and sciences, they have hereby laid a foundation for 
the esteem and love of mankind among those with 
whom they converse, in higher or lower ranks of life ; 
they have been often guarded by this means from the 
temptation of indolent pleasures, and hiive secured both 
their own hours and the hours of their companions from 
running to waste in sauntering and trifles, and from a 
Ihcusand impertinences in silly dialogues. Gaming 
and drinking, and many criminal and foolish scenes of 
talk and action, have been prevented by these innocent, 
and improving elegancies of kno'vledge. 

XIII. History is a necessary study in the supreme 
place for gentlemen who deal in politics. The govern- 
ment of nations, and distressful and desolating events 
which have in all ages attended the mistakes of politi- 
cians, should be ever present on their minds, to warn 
them to avoid the like conduct. Geography and chro- 
nology, which precisely inform us of the place and time 
where such transactions or events happened, are the 
f^yes of history, and of absolute necessity in some mea- 
sure to attend it. 

But history, so far as relates to the aflfairs of the 
Bible, is as necessary to divines as to gentlemen of any 
profession. It helps us to reconcile mnny difficulties in 
e^cripture, and demonstrates a divine Providence. Dr, 
Prideaux's connexion of the Old and New Testament is 
an excellent treatise of this kind. 

XIV. Among the smaller histories, biography or the 
memoirs of the lives of great and good men, has a high 
rank in my esteem, as worthy of the perusal of every 
person who devotes himself to the study of divinity. 
Therein we frequently find our holy religion reduced to 
practice, and many parts of Christianity shining with a 
transcendent and exemplary light. We learn there 
how deeply sensible great and good men have been of 
the ruins of human nature, by the first apostacy from 
God, and how they have toiled and laboured, and turned 
themselves on all sides, to seek a recovery, in vain, till 
they have found the gospel of Christ an all sufficient 
relief. We are there furnished with effectual and un- 
answerable evidences that the religion of Jesus, with all 
its selfdenials, virtues and devotions, is a very practica- 



OF THE MIND. eol 

hie ih'in^i since it has been carried to such a degree of 
honour by some wise and holy men. We have been 
there assured, that the pleasures and satisfactions of the 
Christian life, in its present practice and future hopes, 
are not the mere raptures of fancy and enthusiasm, 
when some of the strictest professors of reason have 
added the sanction of tneir testimoiiy. 

In short, the lives or memoirs of persons of piety, well 
"written, have been of infinite and unspeakable advantage 
to the disciples and professors of Christianity, and have 
given us admirable instances and rules how to resist 
-every temptation of a soothinj;; or frowning Avorld, 
how to practise important and difficult duties, how to 
loveGod above all, and to love our neighbour as ourselves, 
to live by the faith of the Son of God, and to die in the 
same -faith, in sure and certain hope of a resurrection to 
eternal life. 

XV. Remember that logic and ontology or meta- 
physics are necessary sciences, though they have been 
greatly abused by scholastic waiters, who have pro- 
fessed to teach them in former ages. Not only all stu- 
-dents, whether they design the profession of theology, 
law or physic, but all gentlemen should at least acquire 
a superficial knowledge of them. The introduction of 
so many subtleties, nice distinctions, and insignificant 
terms, without clear ideas, has brought a great part of 
the logic and metaphysics of the schools into just con- 
tempt. Their logic has appeared the mere art of 
wrangling, and their metaphysics the skill of splitting 
an hair, of distinguishing without a difference, and of 
putting long hard names upon common things, and 
sometimes upon a confused jumble of things, which 
have no clear ideas belonging to them. 

It is certain that an unknown heap of trifles and im- 
pertinencles have been intermingled with those useful 
parts of learning, upon which account many persons 
in this polite age, have made it a part of their breeding v 
to throvv a jest upon them ; and to rally them well has 
been esteemed a more valuable talent than to under- 
stand them. 

But this is running into wide extremes ; nor ought 
these parts of science to be abandoned by the wise, be- 
cause some writers of former ages have played the fool 
with them. True logic teaches us to use our reason 



£02 IMPROVEMENT 

well, and brings a light into the understanding ; true 
metaphysies, or ontology, casts a light upon all the 
objects of thought and meditation, by ranging every be- 
ing, with all the absolute and relative pei-fections and 
properties, modes, and attendants of it, m proper ranks 
or classes, and thereby it discovers the various relations^ 
of things to each other, and what are their general or 
special differences from each other, wherein a great 
part of human knowledge consists. And by this means 
It greately conduces to instruct us in method, or the 
disposition of every thing into its proper rank or class 
of beings, attributes, or actions. 

XV4. If I were to say any thing of natural philoso- 
phy, I would venture to lay down my sentiments thus : 
1 think it must needs be very useful to a divine to 
understand something of natural science. The mere 
natural history of birds, beasts, and fishes, of insects, 
trees, and plants, as well as of meteors, such as clouds, 
thunders, lightnings, snow, hail, frost, &tc. in all their 
common or uncommon appearances, may be of con- 
siderable use to one who studies divinity, to give him 
a wider and more delightful view of the works of God, 
and to furnish him with lively and happy images and 
iwetaphors drawn from the large volume of nature, to 
display and represent the things of God and religion, 
in the most beautiful and affecting colours. 

And if the mere history of these things be useful for 
this purpose, surely it will be of further advantage to 
be led into the reasons, causes, and effects of these 
natural objects and appearances, and to know the es- 
tciblished laws of nature, matter and motion, whereby 
the great God carries on his extensive works of provi- 
dence from the creation to this day. 

J confess the old Aristotelean scheme of this science 
will teach us but very little that is worth knowing, about 
these matters ; but the late writers, who have explain- 
ed nature and its operations in a more sensible and 
geometrical manner, are well worth the moderate stu- 
dy of -a divine ; especially those who havp folloAved the 
principles of that wonder of our age and nation, Sir Isaac 
Newton. There is much pleasure and entertainment, as 
well as real profit, to be derived from those admirable 
improvements which have been advanced in natural phi- 
losophy in late years, by the assistance of mathematical 



OF THE MIND. 203 

learnin'g, as well as from the multitude of experiments 
which have been made, and are still making in natural 
subjects. 

XVII. This is a science which indeed eminently be- 
longs to the physician ; he ought to know all the parts 
of human nature, what are the sound and healthy func- 
tions of an animal body, and what are the distempers 
and dangers which attend it ; he should also be furnish- 
ed witii a large knowledge of plants and minerals, and 
every thing which makes up the materia medica, or the 
ingredients of which medicines are made ; and many 
other things in natural philosophy, are subservient to 
his profession, as \tell as the kindred art of surgery. 

XVIII. Questions about the powers and operations 
of nature may also sometimes come into the lawyers 
cognizance, especially such as relate to assaults, wounds, 
murders, &.c. I reinember I have read the trial of a 
man for murder by ijrowning, wherein the judge on the 
bench heard several arguments concerning the lungs 
being filled or not filled with water, by inspiration or 
expiration, fee. to a\! which he professed himself so 
much a stranger, as did not do him any^great honour in 
public. i 

XIX. But I think no divine, who can obtain it, should 
be utterly destitute of this knowledge. By the assis- 
tance of this study, he will be better able to survey the 
various monuments of creating wisdom in the heavens, 
the earth, and the seas, vrith wonder and worship ; and by 
the use of a moderate skill in this science, he may com- 
municate so much of the astonishing works of God, in 
the formation and government of this visible world, and 
so far instruct many of his hearers, as may assist the 
transfusion of the same idpas into their minds, and raise 
them to the same delightful exercises of devotion. 

O Lord, how manifold are thy works ! in wisdom hast 
thou made them all ! They are sought out by all that 
have pleasure in them. 

Besides, it is worthy of the notice of every student in 
theology, that he ought to have some acquaintance with 
the principles of nature, that he may judge a little how 
far they will go ; so that he may not be' imposed upon to 
take every strange appearance in nature for a miracle, 
that he may reason tne clearer upon this subject, that 
he may better confirm the miracles of Moses and of 



204 IMPROVEMENT 

Christ, nor yield up his faith to any pretences of prorfi* 
gy and wonder, which are either the occasional and un- 
common operations of the elements, or the crafty 
sleights of men well skilled in philosophy and mechani- 
cal operations to delude the simple. 

XX. The knowledge also of animal nature, arid of 
the rational soul of man, and the mutual influence of 
these two ingredients of our comjiosilion upon each 
other, is worthy the study of a diviio. It is of great 
importance to persons of this character and office, to 
juQge how far the animal powers have influence upon 
such and sucli particular appearances and practices of 
mankind ; how far the .-mpetites or passions of human 
nature are owing to the flesh and blood, or to tiie mind ; 
how far they may he moderated, and how far they ought 
to be subdued ; and what are the ha]"piest methods of ob- 
taining these ends. By this science jIso we may be better 
informed how far these passions oi appetites are lawful, 
and how far they are criminal, by considering how far 
they are subiec*ted to the pow<irof the will, and how 
far they may be changed, and corrected by our watch- 
fulness, care anil diligence. 

It comes also very properly under the cognizance of 
this profession, to be able in somf measure to deternline 
questions which may arise relatirg to real inspiration, or 
prophesy, to wild enthusiasm, to fits of a convulsive kind, 
to melancholy or phrenay, &tc. and what directions are 
proper to be given concerning any appearances of this 
nature. 

XXI. Next to the Icnowletlgc of natural things, and ac- 
quaintance with the human nature and constitution, 
which is made u}> of soul and body, I think natural reli- 
gion properly takes its place. This consists of these 
two parts, viz. (l.) The speculative or contemplative, 
which is the knowledge of (jod in his various perfections, 
and in his relations to his rational creatures, so far as they 
may be known by the light of nature, which heretofore 
usipd to be called the second part of metaphysics. It in- 
cludes also (2.| That which is practical or active, Avhich 
is the knowleage of the several duties which arise from 
our relation to Godj^and our relation to our fellow crea- 
tures, and the proper conduct and government of our- 
selves ; this has been used to be called ethics, or moral 



'he knowledge of these things is proper for 



OF THE MIND. 205 

all men of learning ; not only because it teaches them 
to obtain just views of the several parts of revealed 
religion and of Christianity, which are built upon them, 
but l>ccause every branch of natural religion and of 
moral duty is contained, and necessarily implied, in all 
the revealed religions that ever God prescribed to the 
world. We may well suspect that religion does not 
come from God, which renounces any part or natural 
duty. 

Whether mankind live under the dispensation of the 
patriarchs, or of Moses, or the prophets, or of our 
Lord Jesus Christ, still we are bound to know the one 
true God, and to practise all that adoration and 
reverence, all that love to him, that faith in his perfec- 
tions, with that obedience and submission to his will, 
which natural religion requires. We are still bound 
to exercise that justice, truth and goodness towards 
our neighbours, that restraint and moderation of out 
own ^appetites and passions, and that regular behav- 
iour towards ourselves and all our fellow creatures 
around us, which moral philosophy teaches. There is 
no sort of revealed religion that will dispense with these 
natural obligations ; and a happy acquaintance with the 
several appetites, inclinations, and passions of human 
nature, and the best methods to rule and restrain, to 
direct and govern them, are our constant business, and 
ought to be our everlaating study. 

Yet 1 would lay down this caution, viz. That since 
students are instructed in the knowledge of the true 
God in their lectures on Christianity, and since among 
the Christian duties they are also taught all the moral 
dictates of the light of nature, or a complete scheme of 
ethics, there is no absolute necessity of learning these 
two parts of natural religion, as distinct sciences, sepa- 
rate and by themselves ; but still it is of great impor- 
tance for a tutor, while he is reading to his pupils these 
parts of the_ Christian religion, to give tnem notice 
now far the light of nature or mere reason will instruct 
us in these doctrines and duties, and how far we are 
obliged to divine revelation and scripture, for clearing 
up and establishing the firm foundations of the one, 
for affording us superior motives and powers to prac- 
tise the other, for raising them to more exalted degrees, 
and building so glorious a superstructure upon them. 
S 



206 IMPROVEMEIST 

XXIII. The study of natural religion, viz. The 
knowledge of God and the rules of virtue and piety as 
far as they are discovered by the light of nature, is 
needful indeed, to prove the truth of divine revelation 
or scripture in the most effectual manner ; but after the 
divine authority of scripture is established, that will 
be a very sufficient spring from whence the bulk of 
mankind may derive their knowledge of divinity, or 
the Christian religion, in order to their own present 
faith and practice, and their future and eternal happi- 
ness. In this sense theology is a science necessary for 
every one that hopes for the favour of God, and the 
felicity of another world : and it is of infinitely more 
importance than any of the arts and sciences which 
belong to the learned professions here on earth. 

XXIV. Perhaps it will be thought necessary I should 
say something concerning the study of the civil law, or 
the law of nature and nations. 

If we should speak with great justness and propriety, 
the civil law signifies the peculiar law of each state,, 
country, or city ; but what we now a days usually 
mean by the civil law, is a body of laws composed out 
of the best of the Roman and Grecian laws, and which 
was in the main received and observed through all the 
Roman dominions for above twelve hundred years. 

The Romans took the first grounds of this law from 
what they call the twelve tables, Avhich were the abridg- 
ments of the laws of Solon at Athens, and of the other 
cities in Greece famous for knowledge and wisdom ; 
to which they added their own ancient customs of the 
city of Rome, and the laws which were made there. 
These written laws were subject to various interpre- 
tatifl-ns, whence controversies daily arising, they w^ere 
determined by the judgment of the learned ; and these 
determinations were what they first called Jus Civile. — 
All this by degrees grew to a vast number of volumes ; 
and therefore the Emperor Justinian commanded his 
chancellor Tribonian to reduce them to a perfect 
body, and this is called the body of the civil law. 

XXV. But that which is of most importance for all 
learned men to be acquainted with is the law of nature, 
or the knowledge of right and wrong among mankind, 
whether it be transacted between single persons or 
communities, sa far as common reason and the light 



OF THE MIND. ^7 

of nature dictate and direct. — This is what PulFendorfF 
calls the hiw of nature and nations, as will appear if 
you consult Sect. 3. Chap. III. of that most valuable 
folio he has written on the subject ; which is well 
worthy the study of every man of learning, particular- 
ly lawyers and divines, together with other treatises 
on the same theme. 

If any question proposed relates to right, and proper- 
ty, and justice between man and man, in any polite and 
civilized country, though it must be adjudged chic^fly 
according to the particular statutes and laws of that 
country, yet the knowledge gf the law of nature will 
ver)'^ considerably assist the lawyer and the civil judge 
in the detetrmi nation thereof. And this knovvieilge 
will be of great use to divines, not only in deciding of 
cases of conscience among men, and answering any 
difficult inquiries which may be proposed to them on 
this subject, but it will greatly assist them also in their 
studies relating to the law of God, and the performance 
or violation thereof, the nature of duty and sin, rewards 
and punishments. 

XXVI. 1 have spoken something of the languages 
before, but let me here resume the subject, and put in 
a few thoughts about those studies which are wont to 
be called philological ; such as history, languages, 
grammar, rhetoric, poesy, and criticism. 

An acquaintance with some of the learned languages 
at least, is necessary for all the three learned professions. 

XXVTI. The lawyers, who have the least nee^d of 
foreign tongues, ought to undejstand Latin. During; 
many ages past, very important matters in the law 
were always vvriMen and managed in that language by 
the lawyers, as prescriptions in medicine by the phy- 
sicians, and citations of the scriptures in divinity were 
always made in Latin by the divines. Prayers also 
were ordained to be said publicly and privately in the 
Roman tongue ; pater nosters and ave marias were 
half the devotion of those ages. These cruel imposi- 
tions upon the people would not suffer them to read in 
their own mother tongue what was done, either to or 
for their own souls, their bodies, or their estates. I am 
ready to suspect this was all owing to the craft and 
policy of tlie priesthood and church of Rome, which 
^n :leavoured to aggrandize theiDseives, and exalt theip 



208 IMPROVEMENT 

own profession into a sovereign tyranny, and to make 
mere slaves of the laity among mankind, by keeping 
them in utter ignorance, darkness, and dependence. 
And they were willing to compound the matter with 
the physicians and the lawyers, and allow them a 
small share in this tyranny over the po-iulace, to main- 
tain their own supreme dominion over all. 

But we thank God the woi-ld is growing something 
wiser ; and of late years the British Parliament has 
]>een pleased to give relief from that bondage in mat- 
ters relating to tlie law also, as in the age of the Refor- 
mation we were delivered from saying our prayers in 
J.atin, from being bound to read the word of God in a 
tongue unknown to the people, and from living in ever- 
lasting subjection to the clergy in matters of this life, 
and the life to come. 

But to return : There ure still so many forms of pro- 
ceedings in judicature- and things called by Latin names 
in the professions of the l^w, and so many barbarous 
words with Latin terminations, that it is necessary 
lawyers should understand this language. Some ac- 
<juamtance also with the old French tongue is needful 
ior the same persons and profession, since the tenures of 
Lyttleton, which are a sort of Bible to the gentlemen 
ot the long robe, were written in that language ; and 
this tongue has been interwoven in some forms of the 
English law, from the days of William the conqueror, 
who came from Normandy to France. 

XXVIII. Physicians should be skilled in the Greek 
as well as ihe Latin, because their great master Hippo- 
crates wrote in that tongue, and his writings arestiil of 
p:ood value and use. A multitude of the names, both of 
the parts of the body, of diseases, and of medicines, 
are derived from the Greek language ; and there an-. 
many excellent books of physic, both in the theoretical 
and practical parts of it, which are delivered to the 
world in the Roman tongue ; and of which that pro- 
fession should not be ignorant. 

XXIX. Such as intend the study of theology should 
be \vell acquainted also with the Latin, because it has 
been- for many hundred years the language of the 
schools of learning ; their disputations are generally 
limited to that language, and many and excellent books 
of divinity must be entirely concealed from the slu* 



OF THE IVflND. S09 

dents, unless they are acquainted with the Latin au- 
thors. 

But those that design the sacred profession of theo- 
logy, should make it their labour of chief importance 
to be very conversant with their Bibles, both in the Old 
and New Testament ; and this requires some knowl- 
edge of those original languages, Greek and Hebrew, 
in which the scriptures were written. All that will pur- 
sue these studies with honour, should be able to read 
the Old Testament tolerably in the Hebrew tongue; 
at least they should be so far acquainted with it, as to 
find out the sense of a text by the help of a dictionary. 
But scarce any man should be thought worthy the name 
of a solid divine, or a skilful teacher of the gospel, in 
these days of light and liberty, unless he has pretty 
good knowledge of the .Greek, since all the important 
points of the Christian religion are derived from the 
New Testament, which was first Writtea in that lan- 
guage. 

XXX. As for the Syrinc and Arabic tongues, if one 
divine in thirty, or in three hundred, travel far into 
these regions, it is enough. A few learned men skilled 
in these languages will make sufficient remarks upon 
them for the service of the whole Christian world ; 
which remarks may sometimes happen to be of use to 
those divines who are unacquainted with them, in 
reading the Bible. But the advantage of these tongues 
is not of so great importance as it has been too often 
represented. My reader will agree with me, when he 
considers that the chief uses of them are these : 

The Arabic is a language which has some kindred 
and affinity to the Hebrew, and perhaps we may now 
and then guess at the sense of some uncommon and 
doubtful Hebrew word, which is found but once or 
twice in the Bible, by its supposed affinity to the Arabic ; 
but whatsoever conjectures may be made by some 
kindred of a Hebrew word to an Arabic root, yet there 
is no certainty to be gathered from it ; for even words 
of the same language, which are undoubtedly derived 
from the same theme or primitive, will give us but 
very doubtful and sorry information concerning the 
true sense of kindred words which spring from the 
same theme. 

S 3 



210 IMPROVEMEJNT 

Let me give a plain instance or two of this uncertain' 
t>': The word strages signifies slaughter; stratum is 
Latin for a bed ; stramen is straw ; and slra^ulum is a 
quilt or coverlet : They are all drawn and derived from 
sternoy which signifies to throw down, to kill, or to 
spread abroad. Let the critics tell me what certain 
serue they could put upon either of these four words 
by their mere cognation with each other, or their deri- 
vation from one common verb. Again, who could tell 
me the certain meaning and precise idea of the word 
honest in English, and assure me that it signifies a man 
of integrity, justice and jjrobity, though it be evidently 
derived fron) honesius in Latin ? Whereas honestus 
hath a very difl'erent idea, and signifies a man of some 
figure in the world, or a man of honour. Let any man 
judge then how little service toward explaining the He- 
brew tongue can be furnished from all the language of 
Arabia. Surely a great part of the iBng learned fatigues 
and tiresome travels of men through this country, is 
almost vain and useless to make the Hebrew Bible 
better understood. 

As for the Syriac language, it is granted there may 
be some small advantiige drawn from the knowledge 
of it, because there is a very ancient translation of the 
New Testament in that tongue ; and perhaps this may 
sometimes give a proper and apposite meannigto a diffi- 
cult and doubtful text, and a fair hint for recovering the 
true meaning of the scripture from the perverse glosses 
of other writers. But there are several commentators 
and lexicographers who have been acquainted with the 
Syriac lani^uage, and have ^iven us the chief of these 
hints in their writings on scripture. 

And after all, since none of these assistances caa 
yield us a sufficient proof of a true interpretation, and 
give us the certain sense of a text, who would be per- 
suaded to waste any great number of his better^ hours 
in such dry studies, and in labours of so little profit ? 

XXXI. The Chaldean language indeed is much 
nearer to the Hebrew, and it is proper for a divine to 
have some acquaintance with it, because there arc 
several verses or chapters of Ezra and Daniel which 
are written in that language ; and the old^ Jewish tar- 

§ums or commentaries, which are written in the Chal- 
ean tongue, may sometimes happen to cast a little 
light upon a doubtful scripture of the QW Testament. 



OF THE MIND, Ml 

But it roust be still owned, that the knowledge of 
these «!astern tongues does not deserve to be magnified 
to such a degree as sonie of the proficients in them hava 
indulged ; uherein they have carried matters beyond 
all reason and justice, since scarce any of the most 
important subjects of the gospel of Christ, and the 
way of salvation, can gain any advantage from them. 

XXXII. The art of grammar comes now to be men- 
tioned. It is a distinct thing from the mere knowledge 
of the languages ; for all mankind are taught from their 
infancy^ to speak their mother tongue, by a natural 
imitation of their mothers and nurses, and those who are 
round about them, without any knowledge of the art 
of grammar, and the various observations and rules that 
relate to it. Grammar indeed is nothing else but rules and 
observations drawn from the common speech of man- 
kind in their several languages ; and it teaches us to speak 
and pronounce, to spell and write with propriety and 
exactness, according to th^ custom of those in every 
nation, who are or were supposed to speak and write 
their own languages best : Now it is a shame for a man 
to pretend to science and study in any of the three learn- 
ed professions, who is not in some measure acquainted 
witn the propriety of those languages with which h© 
ought to be conversant in his daily studies, and more 
especially in such as he may sometimes be called upoa 
to write as well as read. 

XXXIII. Next to grammar we proceed to consider 
rhetoric. 

Wow rhetoric in general is the art of persuading^ 
which may be distisguished into these three parts, viz. (l .) 
Conveying the sense of the speaker to the understands 
ing of the hearers in the clearest and most intelligible 
manner by the plainest expressions ; and the most lively 
and striking representations of it, so that the mind may- 
be thoroughly convinced of the thing proposed. (2.) 
Persuading the will efiectually to choose or refuse the 
thing suggested and represented. (S.) Raising the pas*- 
sions in the most vivid and forcible manner, so as to 
set all the soul and every power of nature at work, to 
pursue or avoid the thing in debate. 

To attain this end, there is not only a great deal of 
art necessary in the represeRtation ef matters to th^ 



S12 IMPROVEMENT 

auditory, but also in the disposition or method of intro- 
diicinj; these particular representations, together Avith 
the reasons which might convince, and the various 
methods which might persuade and prevail upon the 
hearers. There are certain seasons wherein a violent 
torrent of oration, in a disguised and conct-aU d method, 
may be niore etiectual than all the nice forms of logic 
and reasoning. The figures of interrogation and ex- 
clamation have sometimes a large place and happy 
effect ivt this sort of discourse, and no figure of speech 
should be wanting here, where the speaker has art 
enough happily to introduce it. 

There are many remarks and rules laid down by the 
teachers of this art, to improve a young genius into 
those glorious talents whereby Tuliy and Demosthenes 
acquired that amazing influence and success in th«?ir 
own age and nition, and that immortal fame through 
all nations and ages. And it is with great advantage 
these rules may be perused and learned. But a happy 
genius, a lively imagination, and warm passions, togeth- 
er with a due degree of knowledge and skill in the sub- 
jects to be debated, and a perpetual perusal of the wri- 
tings of the best orators, and hearing the best speakers, 
will do more to make an orator than all the rules of art in 
the world, without these natural talents, and this careful 
imitation of the most approved and happiest orators. 

XXXIV. JNow you will presently suppose that plead- 
ers at the bar have great need of this art of rhetoric; 
but it has been a just doubt, whether pleading in our 
British courts of justice, before a skilful judge, should 
admit of any other aid from rhetoric than tnat which 
teaches to open a cause clearly, and spread it in the 
most perspicuous, complete, and impartial manner be- 
fore tne eyes of him that judges ; for impartial justice 
being the thing which is sought, there should be no 
artifices used, no eloquence or powers of language em- 
ployed to persuade the will, or work upon the passions, 
lest the decisive sentence of the judge should be biassed 
or warped into injustice. For this reason, Mr. Locke 
would banish all pleaders in the law for fees out of 
liis government of Carolina, in his posthumous works, 
though perhaps that great man might possibly be too 
severe in so universal a censure of the profession. 

XXXV. But the case is very different with regard to 



01*' TIIE MIND. &l^ 

divines ; the eloquence of the pulf)it, beyond all contro- 
versy, has a much larger extent. 

Their business is not to plead a caiise of right and 
wrong before a wise and skilful judge, but to address 
all the ranks of mankind, the high and low, the wise 
and unwise, the sober and the vicious, and persuade 
them all to pursue and persevere in virtue with regard 
to themselves, in justice and goodness with regard to 
their neighbours, and piety tdvvards God. These are 
aftairs of everlasting importance, and most of the per- 
sons to whom, these addresses are made, are not wise 
and skilful judges, but are influenced and drawn strong- 
ly to the contrary side by their own sinful appetites and 
passions, and bribed or biassed by the corrupt customs 
of the world. 

There is therefore a necessfty not only of a clear 
and faithful representation of things to men, in order 
to convince their reason and judgment, but of all the 
skill and force of persuasion addressed to the will and 
the passions. So Tully addressed the whole senate of 
Rome, and Demosthenes the Athenian people, among 
whom were capacities and inclinations of infinite 
variety ; and therefore they made use of all the light- 
ning and thunder, all the entreaties and terrors, all the 
soothing elegancies and the flowery beauties of lan- 
guage which their art could furnish them with. Divines 
in the pulpit have much the same sort of hearers, and 
therefore they should imitate those ancient examples. 
The understanding indeed ought to be first convinced 
by the plainest and strongest force of reasoning ; but 
when this is done, all the powerful motives should be 
used, which have anyjirst influence upon human nature, 
all the springs of passion should be touched, to awaken 
the stupid^ and the thoughtless into consideration, to 
penetrate and melt the hardest heart, to persuade 
the unwilling, to excite the lazy, to reclaim the obstinate, 
and reform the vicious part of mankind, as well as to 
encourage those who are humble and pious, and to 
support their practice and their hope. The tribes of 
men are sunk into so fatal a degeneracy and dreadful 
distance from God, and from all tnat is holy and happy, 
that. hI! the eloquence which a preacher is master of, 
should be employed in order to recover the world 
from its shameful ruin and wretchedness by the gospel 



214 IMPROVEMENT 

of our blessed Saviour, and restore it to virtue and' 
piety, to God and happiness, by the divitje powef 
of tliis gospei. O may such glorious masttnts of sa- 
cred oratory never be wanting in the pui])its of Chris- 
tendom ! 

XXXVI. Sliall I noAv speak something of my senti- 
ments concerning poesy ? 

As for books of poesy, whether in the learned or in 
the modern languages, they are of great use to be read 
at hours of leisure, by all persons that make any pre- 
tence to good education or learning, and that for seve- 
ral reasons. 

1. Because there are many couplets or stanzas written 
in poetic measures, which contain a varietj'^ of morals 
or rules of practice, relating to the common prudentials 
of mankind, as well as to matters of religion, and the 
poetic numbers (or rhyme, if there be any) add very 
considerable force to the memory. 

Besides, many an elegant or admirable sentiment or 
desciiption of things, which are found among the 
poets, are worth committing to memory, and the par- 
ticular measures of verse greatly assist us in recollect- 
ing such excellent passages, which might sometimes 
raise our conversation from low and grovelling sub- 
jects. 

2. In heroic verse, but especially in the grander 
lyrics, there are sometimes such noble elevations of 
tnought and passion, as illuminate all things around 
us, and convey to the soul most exalted and magnifi- 
cent images and sublime sentiments ; these furnish us 
"with glorious spnngs and mediums to raise and aggran- 
dize our conceptions, to warm our souls, to awaken the 
better passions, and to elevate them even to a divine 
pitch, and that for devotional purposes. It is the lyric 
ode which has shown to the world some of the happi- 
est exam])les of this kind, and I cannot say but this 
part of poesy has been my favourite amusement 
above all others. 

And for this reason it is, that I have never thought 
the heroic poems, Greek, Latin, or English, which have 
obtained the highest fame in the world, are sufficiently 
diversified, exalted or animated, for want of the inter- 
spersion of now and then an elegiac or a lyric ode. 
This might have been done with great and beautiful 



OF THE MIND. 215 

propriety, where the poet has introduced a song at a 
feast, or the joys of a victory, or the the soliloquies of 
divine satisfaction, or the pensive and despairing ago- 
nies of distressing sorrow. Why should that which is 
called the most glorious form of poesy be bound down 
and confined to such a long and endless uniformity of 
measures, when it should kindle or melt the soul, 
swell or sink it into all the various and transporting 
changes of which human nature is capable ? 

Cowley, in his unfinished fragment of the Davideis, 
has shown us this way to improvement ; and whatever 
blemishes may be found in other parts of that heroic 
essay, this beauty and glory of it ought to be preserved 
for imitation. 1 am well assured, that if Homer and 
Virgil had happened to practise it, it w^ould have been 
renowned and glorified, by every critic, I am greatly 
mistaken, if this wise mixture of numbers could not 
be a further reach of perfection than they have ever 
attained to without it ; let it be remembered, that it is 
not nature and strict reason, but a weak and awful 
reverence for antiquity, and the vogue of fallible men, 
that has established those Greek and Roman writings 
as absolute and complete patterns. In several ages 
there have been some men of learning who have very 
justly disputed this glory, and have pointed to many 
of their mistakes. 

5. But still there is another end of reading poesy, and 
perhaps the most considerable advantage to be obtained 
from it by the bulk of mankind, and that is, to furnish 
our tongues with the richest and most polite variety 
of phrases and w^ords upon all occasions of life or re- 
ligion. He that whites well in verse, will often find a 
necessity to send his thoughts in search through all the 
treasure of W'ords that express any one idea in the same 
language, that so he may comport with the measures, 
nr rhyme of the verse which he writes, or with his 
own most beautiful and vivid sentiments of the thing 
he describes. Now by much reading of this kind, we 
5hall insensibly acquire the habit and skill of diversify- 
ing our phrases upon all occasions, and of expressing 
3ur ideas in the most proper and beautiful language, 
whether we write or speak of the things of God or 
men. 



^16 IMPROVEMENT 

It is pity that some of these harmonious writers 
have ever indulged any thing uncleanly or impure to 
deiile their paper and abuse the ears of their readers, 
or to offend against the rules of the nicest virtue and 
politeness, hut still among the writings of Mr. Dryden, 
Mr. Pope, and Dr. Young, as well as others, there is h 
sufficient choice in our own language, wherein we shall 
not find any indecency to shock the most modest tongue 
or ear. 

Perhaps there has hardly been a writer in any nation, 
and 1 may dare to affirm there is none in ours, has a 
richer and happier talent of painting to the life, or has 
ever discovered such a large and inexhausted variety 
of description as the celebrated Mr. Pope. If you 
read his translations of Homer's Iliad, you will iind 
almost all the terms or phrases in our tongue that are 
needful to express any thing that is grand or magnifi- 
cent; but if you peruse his Odyssey, which descends 
much more into common life, there is scarce any use- 
ful subject of discourse or thought, or any ordinary 
occurrences which he has not cultivated and dressed 
in the most proper language ; and yet still he has enno- 
bled and enlivened even the lower subjects with the 
brightest and most agreeable ornaments. 

1 should add here also, that if the same author had 
more frequently employed his genius upon divine 
themes, his short poem on the Messiah, part of his let- 
ters between Abelard and Eloisa, with tnat ode on the 
<lying Christian, &lc. sxifficiently assure us, that his 
pen would have honourably imitated some of the 
tender scenes of penitential sorrow, as well as the 
sublimer odes of the Hebrew Psalmist, and perhaps 
discovered to us in a better manner than any other 
translation has done, how great a poet sat upon the 
throne of Israel. 

4. After all that 1 have said, there is yet ia further 
use of reading poesv, and that is, yvhen the mind has 
been fatigued with studies of a more laborious 
kind, or when it is any ways unfit for the pursuit of 
more difficult subjects^ it may be, as it were, unbent, 
and repose itself a while on the flowery meadows 
where the muses dwell. It is a very sensible r«lief 
to the soul when it is over tired, to amuse itself with 
fhe numbers and beautiful sentiments of the poets. 



OF THE MmD. £17 

and in a little time this agreeable amusement may re«- 
cover the languid spirits to activity and more impor- 
'•^tant service. ' 

XXXVIL All this I propose to the world as my 
best observations about reading of verse. But if the 
question were offered to me, Shall a student, of a 
bright genius, never divert himBelf with writing poesy ? 
I would answer. Yes, w^hen he cannot possibly help it; 
a lower genius, in mature years, would heartily wisii 
that he had spent much more time in reading the best 
authors of this kind, and employed much fewer hours 
in writing. But it must be confessed, or supposed at 
least, ihat there maj"^ be seasons when it is hardly possi- 
ble for a poetic soul to restrain the fancy or quench the 
flame ; when it is hard to suppress the exuberant flow 
of lofty sentiments, and prevent the imagination from 
this sort of style or language ; and that is tlie only 
season, i think, wherein this inclination should be in- 
dulged ; especially by persons who have dovoted them- 
selves to professions of a different kind ; and one 
reason is, because what they write in tliat hour, is 
more likely to carry in it some appearance above 
nature, some happy imitation of the dictates of the 
muse.* 

XXXTIIL There are other things besides history, 
grammar and languages, rhetoric and poesy, whicii 
have been included under the name of philological 
knowledge; such as, an acquaintance with the notions, 
customs, manners, tempers, po'il)', &c. of the variou3 
nations of the earth, or the distinct sects and tribes of 
mankind. This is necessary, in order to understand 
history the better ; and every man who is a lawyer or 
a gentleman, ought to obtain some acquaintance with 
these things, without which he c:in never ivad history 
to any great advantage, nor can he maintain his own 
station and character in life with honour and dignity 
without some insight into them. 

XXXIX. Students in divii^ity ought to seek a lar- 
ger acquaintance with the Jewish laws,poHty,cn^tom.s, 
&c. in order to understand many passages of the Old 
Testament and New, and to vindicate the sacred wri- 

* The Muse, in ibe ancient heathen sense is f opposed to be a f,ofidess-, 
l^ut, in ihe philosophic sense, it can mean no more than a bright 
genius, with a warm anU sticng imagination, ekvatcd to an uncojumsn 
degree. 

T 



ai8 IMPROVEMENT, kc. 

ters from the reproaches of Infidels. An acquaintance 
also with many of the Roman and Grecian affairs is 
needful to explain several texts of scripture in the New 
Testament, to lead sincere inquirers into the true and 
genuine sense of the Evangelists and Apostles, and 
to guard their writings from the unreasonable cavils of 
men. 

XL. The art of criticism is reckoned by some as a 
distinct part of philology ; but in truth it is nothing else 
than a more exact and accurate knowledge or skill in 
the other parts of it, and a readiness to apply that 
knowledge upon all occasions, in order to judge well 
of what relates to these subjects, to explain what is 
obscure in the authors which we read, to supply what 
is defective, and amend what is erroneous in manu- 
scripts or ancient copies, to correct the mistakes of au- 
thors and editors in the sense or the words, to reconcile 
the controversies of the learned ; and by these means 
to spread a juster knowledge of these things among 
the inquisitive part of mankind. 

Every man who pretends to the learned professions, 
if he doth not arise to be a critic himself in philological 
matters, he should be frequently conversing with those 
books, whether dictionaries, paraphrasts, commenta- 
tors, or other critics which may relieve any difficulties 
he meets with, and give him a more exact acquaintance 
with those studies which he pursues. 

And whensoever any person is arrived to such a 
degree of knowledge in these things as to furnish him 
well for the practice of criticism, let him take great 
care that pride and vanity, contempt of others, with 
inward wrath and insolence, do not mingle themselves 
with his remarks and censures. Let him remember 
the common frailties of human nature, and the mis- 
takes to which the wisest man is so^ etimes liable, 
that he may practise this art with due modesty and 
candour. 



END OF PART 1 



IMPROYEMENT OF THE MIND. 



PART II, 



COMMUNICATION OF USEFUL KNOWLEDGE. 
INTRODUCTION. 

J. HE chief design of the former part of this bo6k is 
to lead us into proper methods for the improvement of 
our own knowledge : let us now consider what are the 
best means of improving the minds of others, and of 
communicating to them the knowledge which we have 
acquired. If the treasures of the mind should be 
hoarded up and concealed, they would profit none be- 
sides the possessor, and even his advantage by the pos- 
session would be poor and narrow in comparison of 
what the (same treasures w'ould yield, both to himself 
and to the world, by a free communication and diffusion 
of them. Large quantities of knowledge acquired and 
reserved by one man, Uke heaps of g6ld and silver, 
would contract a sort of rust and disagreeable aspect, 
by lying in everlasting secrecy and silence ; bi.it they 
are burnished and glitter by perpetual circulation 
through the tribes of mankind. 

The two chief ways of conveying" knowledge to 
others, are that of verbal instruction to our disciples, 
or by writing and publishing our thoughts to the world. 

Here, therefore, I shall propose some observations 
which relate to the conveyance of knowledge to others, 
byM-egular lectures of verbal instruction, or by conver- 
sation : I shall represent several of the chief prejudices 
of which learners are in danger, v^ith directions to guard 
against them ; and then mention some of tne easiest and 



Hi 



220 IM'PROVEMENT 

most efTectual ways of convincing persons of their min 
t;:k;'S, and of dealing with their understanding, when 
they labour under tlie power of prejudice. I shall after- 
Tvard.-? add, by way of appendix, an essay written many 
yoa;3 ago, on the subject of Educatl'tn, Avhen 1 design- 
ed a more complete treatise of it. 

CHAP. I. 

Midhods of Tcachingj and Reading Lectures. 

E that h.vs learned any thing tlioronshly, in a clear 
and n^ethodicnl manner, and has attain^^l a distinct 
perception and an ample survey of the whole subject, 
}S senertijy best prepared to teich the same snliject 
in r, clear and easy method ; for having acquired a large 
and distinct idea of it, and made it familiar to himself 
by frequent meditation, reading, and occasional dis- 
course, he is supposed to see it on all sides, to grasp it, 
with all its appendices and relations, in one survey, and 
is better able to represcntit to the learner in all its views, 
with all its properties, relations and consequences. He 
knows which view or side of the subject to hold jwit 
first to his disciple, and how to propose to his under- 
standing that part of it which is easiest to apprehend ; 
and also knows how to set it in such a light, as is most 
likely to allure and to assist his further inquiry. 

But it is not every one who is a great soliolar that 
always becomes the happiest teaciier, even though h« 
may have a clear conception, and a methoxJical as well 
as aj extensive survey of the branches of any science. 
He must also be well acquainted with v/ords, as well as 
ideas, in a proper variety, that when his disciple does 
not take in the ideas in one form of expr/;ssion, he may 
change the phrase into sever<il forms, till ;it last he 
hits tlie understanding of his scholar, and enlightens it 
in the just idea of truth. 

Besidtvs this, a tutor should he a person of a happy 
and condescending temper, who has patience to bea'r 
with a slowness of perception, or want of sagacity in 
some learners. He should also have much candour of 
soul, to pass a gentle censure on. their impertinences, 
and to pity them in their mistakes, and use every mild 
iind engaging metliod for insinuating knowledge iiHo 



OF THE MIN£). 221 

those "who are willing and diligent in seeking truth, as 
■well as reclaiming those who are wandering into error. 
But of this I have spoken somewhat already in a chap- 
ter of the former part, and shall have occasion to express 
something more of it shortly. 

A very pretty and useful way to lead a person into 
the knowledge of any particular truth is, by question 
and answer, which is the Socratical method of dispu- 
tation, and therefore I refer the reader to that chapter 
or section which treats of it. On this account, dialogues 
are used as a polite and pleasant method of leading 
gentlemen and ladies into some of the sciences, who 
seek not the most accurate and methodical treasure of 
learning. 

But the most usual and perhaps the most excellent 
way of instructing students in any of the sciences is, 
by reading lectures, as tutors in the academy do to 
their pupil§. 

The first work is to choose a book well written, 
wliich contains a short scheme or abstract of that sci- 
ence ; or at least it should not be a very copious and 
diffusive treatise. Or, if the tutor knows not arty such 
book alrea-dy written, he should draw up an abstract of 
that science himself, containing the most substantial 
and important parts of it, disposed in such a method 
as he best approves. 

Let a chapter or section of this be read daily by the 
learner, on which the tutor shall paraphrase in this 
manner, namely : 

He should explain both words and ideas more large- 
ly ; and especially what is dark and difficult should be 
opened and illustrated, partly by various forms of 
speech, and partly by apt similitudes and examples. 
Where the sense of the author is dubious, it must also 
be fixed and determined. 

Where the arguments are strong and cogent, they 
should be enforced by some further paraphrase, and 
the truth of the inferences should be made plainly to 
appear. Wherq the arguments are weak and insufficient, 
they should be either confirmed or rejected as useless ; 
and new arguments, if need be, should be added to 
support that doctrine. 

What is treated very concisely in the author should 
he amplified, and where several things are laid closely 
T 2 



222 IMPROVEMENT 

together, they must be taken to pieces and opened by 
parts. X 

Where the tutor differs from the author which he 
reads, he should gently point out and confute his mis- 
takes. 

Where the method and order of the book is just and 
happy, it should be pursued and commended ; where 
it is defective and irregular, it should be corrected. 

The most necessary, the most remarkable and useful 
parts *)f that treatise, or of that science, should be 
peculiarly recommended to the learners, and pressed 
upon them, that they would retain it in memory ; and 
what is more unnecessary or superfluous should be 
distinguished, lest the learner should spend too much 
time in the more needless parts of a science. 

Tile various ends, uses and services of that science, 
or of any part of it, should be also declared and exem- 
plified as far as the tutor hath opportunity and furni- 
ture to do it ; particularly in mathematics and natural 
philosophy. 

And if there be any thing remarkably beautiful or 
defective in the style of the writer, it is proper for the 
tutor to make a just remark upon it. 

While he is reading and explaining any particular 
treatise to his pupils, he may compare the different 
editions of the same book, or different writers upon 
the same subject ; he should inform them where that 
subject is treated by other authors, which they may 
peruse, and lead his disciples thereby to a further eluci- 
dation, confirmation, or improvement of that theme of 
discourse in which he is instructing them. 

It is alluring and agreeable to the learner also, now 
and then to be entertmned with some historical re- 
marks, or any occurrences ot useful stories which the 
tutor has met with, relating to the several parts of such 
a science, provided he does not put off his pupils merely 
with such stories, and neglect to give them a solid and 
rational information of the theme in hand. Teachers 
should endeavour, as far as possible, to join profit and 
pleasure together, and mingle delight with their in- 
structions ; but at the same time they must take heed, 
that they do not merely amuse the ears, and gratify 
the fancy ©f their disciples, without enriching their 
minds. 



OF THE MIND; 229 

In reading lectures of instruction, let the teacher be 
very solicitous that the learners take up his meaning, 
and therefore he should frequently inquire, whether 
he expresses himself intelligibly, whether they under- 
stand nis sense and take in all his ideas, as he endeav- 
ours to convey them in his own forms of speech. 

It is necessary that he who instructs others, should 
use the most proper style for the conveyance of his 
ideas easily into the minds of those who hear him ; 
and though in teaching the sciences, a person is not 
confined to the same rules by which we must govern 
our language in conversation, for he must necessarily 
make use of many terms of art, and hard words, yet 
he should never use them merely to show his learning, 
nor atfect sounding language without necessity ; a cau- 
tion which we shall soon further inculcate. 

I think it very convenient and proper, if not abso- 
lutely necessary, that when a tutor reads a following 
If cture to his pupils, he should run over the foregoing 
lecture in questions proposed to them, and by this 
means acquaint himself with their daily proficiencj\* 
It is vain for the learner to object, surely we are not school 
boys, to say our lessons again ; we came to be taught, 
and not to be catechised and examined. But alas ! 
how is it possible for a teacher to proceed in his in- 
structions if he knows not how far the learner takes in 
and remembers what he has been taught? 

Besides I must generally believe it is sloth or idleness, 
it is real ignorance, incapacity, or unreasonable pride, 
that makes a learner refuse to give his teacher an ac- 
count how far he has profited by his last instructions. 
For want of this constant examination, young gentle- 
men have spent some idle and useless years, even under 
the daily labours and inspection of a learned teacher ; 
and they have returned from the academy without the 
gain of any one science, and even with the shameful 
loss of their classical learning, that is the knowledge of 

' * This precaution, Ihouofh never to be neglected, is of especial impor- 
tance when a pupil is entering on any new branch of learning", where il 
is absolutely necessary the fundamental definitions and principles should 
not only be clearly understood, but should be rendered verj' familiar to 
the mind ; and probably most tutors have found young persons sadly 
beivilde red as they have gone on in their lectures, for want of a little 
more patience and ciare in this respect. 



2£4 IMPROVEMENT 

Greek and Latin, which they had learnt in the grammar 
school. 

Let the teacher always accommodate himself to the 
j^enius, temper, and capacity of his disciples, and prac- 
tise various methods of prudence to allure, persuade, 
and assist everyone of them in their pursuit of knowl- 
edge. 

Where the scholar has less sagacit}'', let the teacher 
enlarge his illustrations ; let him search and find out 
where the learner sticks, what is the difficulty ; and 
thus let him help the labouring intellect. 

Where the learner manifests forward genius, and a 
sprightly curiosity by frequent inquiries ; let the teach- 
er oblige such an inquisitive soul by satisfying those 
questions as far as may be done by decency and con- 
veniency ; and where these inquiries are unseasonable, 
let him not silence the 5'oung inquirer with a magiste- 
rial rebuff, but with much candour and gentleness post- 
pone those questions, and rt'fer them to a proper iiour. 

Curiosity is a useful spring of knowledge, it should 
be encouraged in children, and awakened by frequent 
and familiar methods of talking with them. It should 
be indulged in youth, but not without a prudent mod-* 
eration. In those who have too much, it should be 
limited by a wise and gentle restraint or delay, lest by 
wandering after ever}'^ thing, they learn nothing to 
perfection. In those who have too little, it should he 
excited, lest they grow stupid, narrow spirited, self- 
satisfied, and never attain a treasure of ideas, or an ap- 
titude of understanding. 

Let not the teacher demand or expect things too 
sublime and difficult from the humble, modest, and 
fearful disciple ; and where such an one gives a just and 
happy answer, even to plain and easy questions, let 
him have words of commendation and love ready for 
him. Let him encourage every spark of kindling light, 
till it grow up to bright evidence and confirmed knowl- 
edge. 

Where he finds a lad pert, positive, and presuminj^, 
let the tutor take every just occasion to show him his 
error ; let him set the absurdity in complete light before 
him, and convince him, by a full demonstration of his 
mistake, till he sees and feels it, and learns to be mod- 
est and humble. 



OF THE MIND. £25 

A teacher should not only ol)serve the diiferent spirit 
and hilniour among his scfiolars, but he should watch 
the various efforts of their reason, and growth of their 
imderstandinj^. He should practice in his young nur- 
sery of learuingas a skilful j^ardener does in his veget- 
able dominions, and apply prudent methods of culti- 
vation to every plant. Let him with a discreet and 
gentle hand nip or }-)runii the irregular shoots, let him 
guard and encourage the tender buddings of the under- 
standing, till they be raised to a blossom, and let him 
kindly cherish tho younger fruits. 

Tlie tutor should take every occasion to instil knowl- 
edge into his disciples, and make use of every occur- 
rence in life, to raise some profitable conversation upon 
k : He should frequently inquire something of his 
disciples that may set their young reason to work, and 
teach tiiera how to form inferences and to draw One 
pn)position out of another. 

Reason being that faculty of mind Avhich he has to 
deal with in his pupil, let him endeavour by all proper 
and familiar methods to call it into exercise, and to en- 
large the powers of it. He should take frequent oppor- 
tunities to show them when an idea is clear or confused^ 
when the pro]x)sition js evident or doubtful, and when 
an argument is feeble or strong ; and by this means 
their minds will be so formed, that whatsoever he 
proposes, with evidence and strength of reason, they 
will readily receive. 

When any uncommon appearances arise in the natu- 
ral, moral, or political world, he should invite and in-r 
struct them to make their remarks on it, and give them 
the best reflections of his Own, for the improvement of 
iheir minds. 

He should by all means make it appear that he loves 
his pupHs, and that he seeks nothing so much as their 
increase of knowledge, and their growth in a]l valuable 
acquirements ; this will engage their affection to his 
person, and procure a just attention to his lectures. 

And indeed there is but little hope that a teacher 
should obtain any success in his instructions, unless 
those that hear him have some good degree of es- 
teem and respect for his person and character. And 
here I cannot but take notice by the way, that it is a 
jQ^afeter of infinite and- unspeakable injury to the people 



!226 IMPROVEMENT 

of any town or parish, where the minister lies under 
contempt. If he has procured it hy his own conduct, 
he is doubly crimin;il, because of the injury he does to 
the souls of them that hear him ; but if this contempt 
and reproach be cast upon him by the wicked, malicious, 
and unjust censures of men, they must bear all the ill 
consequences of receiving no good by his labours, and 
will be accountable hereafter to the great and divine 
judge of* all. 

It would be very necessary to add, in this place, if 
tutors wei-e not well apprized of it hr-fore, that siijce 
learners are obliged to seek a divine blessing on iheir 
studies, by fervent prayer to the God of all wisdom, 
their tutors should go before them in this pious prac- 
tice, and make daily addresses to heaven for the success 
of their instructions. 

CHAP. 11. 

Of an Instructive Style. 

X HE most necessary and most useful character of a 
style fit for instruction is, that it be*plain, perspicuous, 
and easy. And here I shall first point out all those 
errors in a style, which diminish or destroj^ the per- 
spixiuity of it, and then mention a few directions how 
to obtain a perspicuous and easy style. 

The errors of style which must be avoided by teach- 
ers, are these that follow : 

I. The use of many foreign words, which are not 
sufficiently naturalized and mingled with the language 
which we speak or write. It is true, that in teaching 
the sciences in English, we must sometimes use words 
borrowed from the Greek and Latin, for we have not 
in English, names for a variety of subjects which be- 
long to learning ; but when a man affects, upon all occa- 
sions, to bring in long sounding words from the ancient 
languages without necessity, and mingles French and 
other outlandish terms and phrases, where plain Eng- 
lish would serve as well, he betrays a vain and foolish 
genius, unbecoming a teacher. 

II. Avoid a fantastic learned style, borrowed from 
the various sciences, where the subject and matter do 
not require the use of them. Do not alTect terms of 



OF THE MIND. ^27 

art on every Occasion, nor seek to show your learning 
by sounding words and dark phrases ; this is properly 
called pedantry. 

Young preachers, just come from the schools, are 
often tempted to fill their sermons with logical and 
metaphysical terms in explaining their text, and feed 
their hearers with sonorous words of vanity. This 
scholastic language, perhaps, may flatter their own am- 
bition, and raise a wonderment at their learning, among 
the staring multitude, without any manner of influence 
toward the instruction of the ignorant, or the reforma- 
tion of the immoral or impious ; these terms of art are 
but the tools of an artificer, by which his work is 
wrought in private ; but the tools ought not to appear 
in the finished workmanship. 

There are some persons so fond of geometry, that 
they bring in lines and circles, tangents and parabolas, 
theorems, problems and postulates, upon all occasions. 
Others who have dealt in astronomy borrow even their 
nouns and their verbs, in their common discourse, from 
the stars and planets ; instead of saying Jacob had 
twelve sons, they tell you, Jacob had as many sons 
as there are signs in the zodiac. If they describe an 
inconstant person, they make a planet of him, and 
set him forth in all his appearances, direct, retro- 
grade and stationary. If a candle be set behind a 
screen, they call it eclipsed ; and tell jou fine stories of 
the orbit and the revolutions, the radii and the limb, or 
circumference of a cart-wheel. 

Others again dress up their sense in chemical lan- 
guage ; extracts and oils, salts and essences, exalt and 
invigorate their discourses ; a great wit with them, is a 
sublimated spirit ; and a blockhead is a ca'jyut mortuum. 
A certain doctor in his bill, swells in his own idea, 
when he tells the town, that he has been counsellor to 
the counsellors of several kings and princes, that he 
has arrived at the knowledge of the green, black, and 
golden dragon, known only to magicians and hermetic 
philosophers. It would be well if the quacks alone 
had a patent for this language. 

III. There are some fine affected words, that are 
used only at court, and some peculiar phrases that are 
sounding or gaudy, and belong only to the theatre j 
these should not come into the lectures of instruction,: 



228 IMPROVEMENT 

the language of poets has too much of metaphor in it 
to lead mankind into clear and distinct ideas of Ihings; 
the business of poesy is to strike the soul Avith a glaring 
light, and to urge the passions into a flame by splendid 
shows, by stiong images, and a pathetic vehemence of 
style ; but it is another sort of speech that is best suited 
to lead the calm inquirer into just conceptions of things. 

IV. There is a mean vulgar style, borrowed from the 
lower ranks of mankind, the basest characters and 
meanest affairs of life ;this is also to be avoided ; fur it 
should he supposed, that persons of liberal education 
have not been bred up within the hearing of such lan- 
guage, and consequently, they cannot understand it ; be- 
sides, tliatit would create very offensive ideas, should we 
borrow even similies for illustration from the scullery, 
the dunghill, and the jakes. 

V. An obscure and mysterious manner of expression 
and cloudy language is to be avoided. Some pej-sons 
bave been led by education, or by some foolisli prejudi- 
ces, into a dark and unintelligible way of thinking and 
speaking, and this continues with them all iheirlives, 
and clouds and confourids their i.deas. Perhaps some 
of these may have been blessed with a great and com- 
prehensive genius, with sublime natural parts, and a 
torrent of ideas flowing in upon them ; yet for want of 
clearness in the manner of their conception and- l«»n- 
guage, they sometimes drown their own subject of dis- 
course, and overwhelm their argument in darkness and 
perplexity. Such preachers as have read much of the 
mystical divinity of the Papists, and imitated their man- 
ner of expression, have manj-^ times buried a fine under- 
standing under the obscurity ot such a style. 

VI. A long and tedious style is very improper for a 
teacher ; for this also lessens the perspicuity of it. Some 
learned writers are never satisfied, unless they fill up 
every sentence with a great number of ideas and senti- 
ments; they swell their propositions to an enormous size 
by explications, exceptions, and precautions, lest they 
should be mistaken, and crowd them all into the same 
period ; they involve and darken their discourse by many 
parentheses, and prolong their sentences to a tiresome 
extent, beyond the reach of a common comprehension ; 
such sort of writers or speakers may be rich in know- 
ledge, but they are seldom fit to communicate it. Hr 



OF THE MIND. ££9 

that would gain a happy talent for the instruction of 
others, must know how to disentangle and divide his 
thoughts, if too many of them are ready to crowd into 
one paragraph ; and let him rather speak three senten- 
ces distinctly and perspicuously, which the hearer re- 
ceives at once with his ears and his soul, than crowd all 
the thought into one sentence, which the hearer has 
forgot before he can understand it. 

But this leads ttie to the next thing I proposed, which 
was to mention some methods, whereby such a perspi- 
cuity of style may be obtained as is proper for instruc- 
tion. 

1. Accustom yourself to read those authors wiio 
think and write with great clearness and evidence ; such 
as convey their ideas into your undei*standing as fast as 
your eye or tongue can run over their sentences; this 
will imprint upon the mind an habit of imitation ; we 
shall learn the style with which we are very conversant, 
and practise it with ease and success. 

2. Get a distinct and comprehensive knowledge of the 
subject which you treat of; survey it on all sides, and 
make yourself perfect master of it ; then you will have 
all the sentiments that relate to it in your view and 
under your command ; and your tongue will very easily 
clothe those ideas with words, which your mmd has 
first made so familiar and easy to itself. 

Scribendi rede sapere est et principium etfons : 
Verba(^ut provisam rem non invila sequenlur 

Ilor. de Arte Poeiicd 

Good teachhig from good knowledge springs j 
Words will make haste to follow things. 

S. Be well skilled in the language which you speak ; 
acquaint yourself with all the idioms and special 
])hrases of it, which are necessary to convey the need- 
ful ideas on the subject of which you treat, in the most 
various and most easy manner to the understanding of 
the hearer ; the variation of a phrase in several forms, 
is of admirable use to instruct ; it is like turning all sides 
of the subject to view ; and if the learner happen not 
to take in the ideas in one form of speech, probably 
another may be successful for that end. 

Upon this account I have always thought it a useful 
manner of instruction, which is used in some Latin 
U 



230 IMPROVEMENT 

schools, which they call variation. Take some plain 
sentence in the English tongue, and turn it into many 
forms in Latin ; as for instance, a wolf let into the sheep 
fold will devour the sheep : if you let a wolf into the fold, 
the sheep Avill be devoured : tlie wolf will devour the 
sheep, if the sheep fold he left open ; if the fold be not 
shut carefully, the wolf will devour the sheep : the sheep 
will be devoured by the wdlf, ifit find the-way into the 
fold open : there is no defence of the sheep from the 
w^olf, unless it be kept out of the fold : a slaughter will be 
made among the sheep, if the wolf can get into the fold. 
Thus by turning the active voice of verbs into the pas- 
sive, and the nominative case of nouns into the accusa- 
tive, and altering the connexion of short sentences by 
different adverbs or conjunctions, and by ablative cases 
with a preposition brought ini-tead of the nominative, 
or by participles sometimes put instead of the verbs, 
the negation of, and the contrary, instead of the asser- 
tion of the thing first proposed, a ^reat variety of forms 
of speech will be created, which shall express the same 
sense. 

4. Acquire a variety of words, a copia verb&rum; let 
your memory be rich in synonimous terms, or words 
expressing the same thing; this will not only attain the 
same happy effect, with the variation of phrases in the 
foregoing direction, but it will add a beauty also to 
your style, by securing you from an appearance of 
tautology, or repeating the same words too often, 
which sometimes may disgust the ear of the learner. 

5. Learn the art of shortening your sentences, by 
dividing a long complicated period into two or three 
small ones. When others connect and join two or 
three sentences in one, by relative pronouns, as which, 
whereof, wherein, whereto, fcc. and by pirentheses 
frequently inserted ; do you rather divide them into 
distinct periods, or at least if they must be united, let 
it be done rather by conjunctions and copulatives, that 
they may appear like distinct sentences, and give less 
confusion to the hearer or reader. 

I know no method so effectually to learn what I mean, 
as to take now and then a page of an author, who is 
guilty of such a long involved parenthetical style, and 
translate it into plainer English by dividing the ideas or 
the sentences asunder, and multiplying the periods, till 



OF THE BIIIND. ;ii31 

the language become smooth and easy, and intelligible 
at first reading. 

6. Talk frequently to young and ignorant persons, 
upon subjects which are knevz and unknown to them, 
and be diligent to inquire whether they understand you 
or no ; this will put you upon changing your phrases 
and forms of speech in a variety, till you can hit their 
capacity, and convey your ideas into their understand- 
ing. 

CHAP. HI. 

Of convincing other Persons of any Truth ; or deliver- 
ing them from errors and mistakes. 

W HEN we are arrived at a just and rational estab- 
lishment in an opinion, whether it relate to religion or 
common life, we are naturally desirous of bringing all 
the world into our sentiments ; and this proceeds from 
the affectation and pride of superior influence upon the 
judgment of ourfellow creatures, much more frequently 
than it does from a sense of duty, or a love of truth ; 
60 vicious and corrupt is human nature. Yet there is 
such a thing to be found, as an honest and sincere de- 
light in propagating truth ; arising from a dutiful regard 
to the honours of our Maker, and an hearty love to 
mankind. Now, if we would be successful in our at- 
tempts to convince men of their errors, and to promote 
the truth, let us divest ourselves as far as possible of that 
pride and affectation which I mentioned before, and 
seek to acquire that disinterested love to men, and zeal 
for the truth, which will naturally lead us into the best 
methods to promote it. And here the following direc- 
tions may be useful. 

1. If you would convince a person of his mistake, 
"choose a proper place, a happy hour, and the fittest 
concurrent circumstances for this purpose." Do not 
unseasonably set upon him when he is engaged in the 
midst of other affairs, but when his soul is at liberty, 
and at leisure to hear and attend. Accost him not up- 
on that subject, when his spirit is ruffled or discompo- 
sed with any occurrences of life, and especially when 
he has heated his passions in the defence of a contrary 
opinion ; but rather seize a golden opportunity, when 



232 IMPROVEMENT 

some occurrences of life may cast a favourable aspect 
upon the truth of which you would convince him, or 
■which may throw some dark and unhappy colour or 
consequence upon that error from which you would 
fain deliver him. There are in life some moUissima 
tempora fandi, some very agreeable moments of ad- 
dressing a person, which, if rightly managed, may 
render your attempts much more successful, and his 
conviction easy and pleasant. 

2. Make it appear by your whole conduct to the 
person you would teach, that you mean him well, that 
your design is not to triumph over his opinion, nor to 
expose his ignorance or his incapacity of defending 
what he asserts. Let him see that it is not your aim to 
advance your own character, as a disputant, nor to set 
yourself up for an instructerof mankind ; but that you 
love him, and seek his true interest ; and do not only 
assure him of this in words, when you are entering 
on an argument with him, but let the whole of 
your conduct to him at all times, demonstrate your 
real friendship for hira. Truth and argument come 
with particular force from the mouth of one whom we 
trrst and love. 

3. The softest and gentlest address to the erroneous 
is the best way to convince them of their mistake. 
Sometimes it is necessary to represent to your oppo- 
nent, that he is not far off from the truth, and that yoa 
would fain draw him a little nearer to it ; commend 
and establish whatever he says that is just and true, as 
our blessed Saviour treated the young scribe, when he 
answered well concerning the two great command- 
ments : " Thou art not far.'''' says our Lord, "/rem the 
kingdom of heaven^ Mark. xii. 34. Imitate the mild- 
ness and conduct of the blessed Jesus. 

Come as near to your opponent as you can in all 
your propositions, and yield to him as much as you 
dare, in a consistence with truth and justice. 

It is a very great and fatal mistake, in persons 
who attempt to convince and reconcile others to their 
party, when they make the •difference appear as wide as 
possible: this is shocking to any person who is to he 
convinced; be will choose rather to keep ard iiiaintain 
his own opinions, if he cannot come into yours 
withotit renouncing and abandoning every thing that 



OF THE MIND, 23S 

he believed before. Human nature must be flattered 
a little, as well as reasoned with, that so the argument 
may be able to come at his understanding, which other- 
wise will be thrust off at a distance. If you charge 
a man with nonsense and absurdities, with 'heresy and 
self-contradiction, you take a very wrong step toward 
convincing him. 

Remember that error is not to be rooted out of the 
mind of man by reproaches and railing, by flashes of 
wit, and biting jests, by loud exclamations or sharp 
ridicule. Long declamations and triumph over our 
neighbour's mistakes, will not prove the way to con- 
vince him ; these are signs either of a bad cause, or 
of want of arguments, or capacity for the defence of 
a good one. 

4. Set therefore a constant watch over yourself, lest 
you grow warm in dispute before j^ou are aware. The 
passions never clear the understanding, but raise dark- 
ness, clouds, and confusion in the soul : human nature 
is like water which has mud atthe bottom of it ; it may 
be clear while it is calm and undisturbed, and the ideas, , 
. like pebbles, appear bright at the bottom ; but when 
once it is stirred and moved by passion, the mud rises 
uppermost, and spreads confusion ard darkness over 
all the ideas; you cannot set things in so just and 
BO clear a light before the eyes of your neighbour, 
while your own conceptions are clouded with heat and 
passion. 

Besides, when your own spirits are a little disturbed, 
and your wrath is awakened, this naturally kindles the 
same fire in your correspondent, and prevents him 
from taking in your ideas were they ever so clear; 
for his passions are engaged all on a sudden for the 
defence of his own mistakes, and they combat as 
fiercely as yours do, which perhaps may be awakened 
on the side of truth. 

To provoke a person whom you would convince, 
not only rouses his anger, and sets it against your doc- 
trine, but it directs its resentment against your person, 
.•\s well as against all your instructions and arguments. 
5rou must treat an opponent like a friend, if you would 
persuade him to learn any thing from you ; and this is 
one great reason why there is so little success on either 
U £ 



234 IMPROVEMENT 

side between two disputants or controversial writers, 
because tliey are so ready to interest their passions in 
the subject of contest, and thereby to prevent the mu- 
tual light that might be given and received on either 
side ; ambition, indignfition, and a professed zeal, reign 
on both sides : victory is the point designed, w hile 
truth is pretended ; and truth oftentimes perishes in 
the fray, or retires from the field of battle: the com- 
batants end just where they began, their understand- 
ings hold fast the same opinions, perhaps with this 
disadvantage, that they are a little more obstinate and 
rooted in them, without fresh reason ; and they gen- 
erally come off with the loss of temper and charity. 

5. Neither attempt nor hope to convince a person of 
his mistake by any penal methods or severe 
usage. There is no light brought into the mind by all 
the fire and sword, and bloody persecutions that were 
ever introduced into the world. One w ould think both 
the princes, the priests, and the people, the learned and 
the unlearned, the great and the mean should have all 
by this time seen the folly and madness of seeking to 
propagate the truth by the laws of cruelty : we compel 
a beast to the yoke by blow s, because the ox and the 
ass have no understanding ; but intellectual powers are 
not to be fettered and compelled at this rate. Men 
cannot believe what they will, nor change their religion 
and their sentiments as they please : they may be made 
hypocrites by the forms of severity, and constrained to 
profess what they do not believe ; they may be forced 
to comply with external practices and ceremonies con- 
trary to their ow n consciences ; but this can never 
please God, nor profit men. 

6. In order to convince another, you should always 
make choice of those arguments that are best suited to 
his understanding and capacity, his genius and temper, 
his state, station, and circumstances. If I were to per- 
suade a ploughman of the truth of any form of church 
government, it should not be attempted by the use of 
Greek and Latm fathers, but from the word of God, 
the light of nature, and the common reason of things. 

7. Arguments should always be proposed in such a 
manner as may lead the mind onward to perceive the 
truth in a clear and agreeable light, as well as to con- 



OF THE MIND. 235 

strain the assent by the power of reasoning. Clear 
ideas, in many cases, are as useful toward conviction as 
a well-formed and unanswerable syllogism, 

8. Allow the person you desire to instruct, a reasona- 
ble time to enter into the force of your arguments. 
When you have declared your own sentiments in the 
brightest manner of illustration, and enforced them 
with the most convincing arguments, you are not to 
suppose that your friend should immediately be con- 
vinced and receive the truth : habitude in a particular 
way of thinking, as well as in most other things, obtains 
the force of nature ; and you cannot expect to wean a 
man from his accustomed errors but by slow degrees, 
and by his own assistance ; entreat him, therefore not to 
iud^e on a sudden, nor determine against you at once ; 
but that he would please to review your scheme, reflect 
upon your arguments with all the impartiality he is 
capable of, and take time to think these over again at 
large ; at least, that he would be disposed to hear 
you speak yet ifurther on this subject, without pain or 
aversion. 

Address him therefore in an obliging manner, and 
say, I am not so fond as to think I have placed the 
subject in such lights as to throw you on a sudden into 
a new track of thinking, or to make you immediatel}' 
lay aside your present opinions or designs ; all that I 
hope is, that sonie hint or other which 1 have given is 
capable of being improved by you to your own convic- 
tion, or possibly it may lead you to such a train of 
reasoning, as in time to effect a change in your thoughts. 
Which hint leads me to add, 

9. Labour as much as possible to make the person 
you would teach his own instructer. Human nature 
may be allured, by a secret pleasure and pride in its 
own reasoning, to seem to find out by itself the ver}^ 
thing that you would teach ; and there are some per- 
sons that have so much of this natural bias toward 
self, rooted in them, that they can never be convinced 
of a mistake by the plainest and strongest arguments 
to the contrary, though the demonstration glare in their 
faces ; but they may be tempted, by such gentle in- 
sinuations, to follow a track of thought which you 
propose, till they have wound themselves out of their 
9wn error, and led themselves hereby into your owa 



236 IMPROVEMENT 

opinion, if you do but let it appear tliattliey are under 
tlieir own guidance rather than yours. And perhaps 
theie is nothing which shows more dexterity of ad- 
dress than this secret influence over the minds of 
others, which they do not discern even while they fol- 
low it. 

10. if you can gain the main point in question, be 
not very solicitous about the nicety with which it shall 
be expressed. Mankind is so vain a thing, that it is 
not willing to derive from another; and though it can- 
not have every thing from itself, yet it would seem at 
least to mingle something of its own with what it 
derives elsewtiere ; therefore when you have set your 
sentiment in the fullest light, and proved it in the most 
eifectual manner, an opponent will bring in some frivo- 
lous and useless distinction, on purpose to change the 
form of words in the question, and acknowledge 
that he receives your pro[)osition in such a sense, 
and in such a manner <»f expn!ssi<m, though he cannot 
receive it in your terms and phrase?. V'anillus will con- 
fess he is now convinced that a man who behaves well 
in the state ought not to be punished for his religion, 
but yet he will consent to allow an universal toleration 
of nil religions Avhich do not injure the state, which is 
the proposition I had b^en proving. Well, let Vanillus, 
therefore, use his own language: 1 am glad he is con- 
vinced of the truth, he shall have leave to dress it in his 
own way. 

To these directions I shall add two remarks in the 
conclusion of this chapter, which would not so proper- 
ly fall under the preceding directions. 

J. Remark. When you have laboured to instruct a 
person in some controverted truth, and yet he retains 
some prejudice against it, so that be doth not yield to 
the convincing force of your argrmients, you may 
sometimes have happy success in convincing him of 
that truth, by setting him to read a weak author who 
writes against it : a young reader will find such pleasure 
in being able to answer the arguments of the opposer, 
that he will drop his former prejudices against the 
truth, and yield to the power and evidence of j^our 
reason. I confess this looks like setting up one preju- 
dice to overthrow another ; but where prejudices can- 
iiot be fairly removed by the dint of reason, the wisest 



OF THE MIND. 257 

and the best of teachers will sometimes find it necessa- 
ry to make a way for. reason and truth to take place^ 
by this contrast of prejudices. 

11. Remark. When our design is to convince a 
whole family or community of persons of any mistake, 
and to lead them into any truth, we may justly suppose 
there are various reigning prejudices among them ; and 
therefore it is not so safe to attem])t, nor so easy to 
effect it, by addressing the whole number at once. 
Such a method has been often found to raiije a sud- 
den alarm and has produced a violent opposition even 
to the most fair, pious, and useful proposal ; so t'lat he 
who made the motion could never carry his point. 

We must therefore first make as sure as we can of 
the most intelligent and learned, at least the most 
leading persons amongst them, by addressing them 
apart prudently, and offering proper reasons, till they 
are convinced and engaged on the side of truth ; and 
these may with more success apply themselves to 
others of the same community : yet the original pro- 
poser should not neglect to make a distinct application 
to all the rest, so far as circumstances admit. 

Where a thing is to be determined by a numbee of 
votes, he should labour to secure a good majority ; and 
then take care that the most proper persons should 
move and argue the matter in public, lest it be quash- 
ed in the very first proposal by some prejudice against 
the proposer. 

So unhap{>ily are our circumstances situated in this 
world, that if truth, and justice, and goodness, could 
put on human forms, and descend from heaven to pro- 
pose the most divine and useful doctrines, and bringvvilh 
them the clearest evidence, and publish them at once 
to a multitude whose prejudices are engaged against 
them, the proposal would be vain and fruitless, and 
neither convince nor persuade ; so necessary is it to join 
art and dexterity together with the force of reason, to 
convince mankind of truth, unless we came furnished 
with miracles or omnipotence to create a conviction.^" 

* The conduct of Christ and his Apostles, armed as thpy v.-p.re with 
supernatural powers, in the ertiduHl open'nsrs of truths, al'ainst whicli 
the minds of their disciples were stroni^ly pVejudiced, may ncit only se- 
cure such an address from the imputation of dishonest craft, lut may 
deriionstrate the expediency, and in some cases of the necessity of at- 
tending to it " 



£38 IMPROVEMJLNT 



CHAP. IV. 

Of Authoriiy. Of the Abuse of it ; and of its real and 
proper Use and Service. 

X HE influence which other persons have upon our 
opinions is usually called authority. The power of it 
is so great and widely extensive, that there is scarce 
any person in the woild entirely free from the impres- 
sions of jt, even after their utmost watchfulness and 
care to avoid it. Our parents and tutors, yea, our 
very nurses, determine a multitude of our sentiments ; 
our friends, our neighbours, the custom of the country 
w'hei-e we dwell, and the established opinions of man- 
kiiMl, form our belief; the great, the wise, the pious, the 
learned, and the ancient, the king, the priest, and the 
philosopher, are characters of mighty efficacy to per- 
suade us to receive what they dictate. These may be 
ranked under different heads of prejudice ; but they 
an; all of a kindred nature, and may be reduced to this 
one spring or head of authority. 

h have treated of these particularly in Logic, Part H. 
Chapter HI. Section 4 ; j'^et a few other remarks oc- 
curring among my papers, I thought it not improper to 
let them find a place here. 

Cicero was well acquainted with the unhaj^py influ- 
ences of authority, and complains of it in his first book 
De J\aiurd Deorum: "In disputes and controversies 
(says he) it is not so much the author or patrons of ant* 
opinion, as the weight and force of argument, which 
would influence the mind. The authority of those 
w ho teach is a frequent hindrance to those who learn, 
hecau::;e they utterly neglect to exercise their own 
judgment, taking for granted whatsoever others whom 
they reverence have judged for them. I can by no 
means approve what we learn from the Pythagoreans, 
that if any thing; asserted in disputation was questioned 
they were wont to answer. Ipse dixit, that is, He him- 
self said so, meaning Pythagoras. So far did pre- 
judice prevail, that authority without reason was 
sufficient to determine disputes and to establish truth." 

All human authority, though it be ever so ancient, 
though it hatli had universal sovereignty, and swayed 



OF THE MJND. 239 

ajl the learned and the vulgar world for some thousands 
of years, yet has no certain and undoubted claim to 
truth ; nor is it any violaiion of good manners to enter 
a caveat with due decency against its pretended 
dominion. What is there among all the sciences, 
that has been longer established, and more universally- 
received, ever since the days of Aristotle, and perhaps 
for ages before he lived, than this, that all heavy bodies 
7vhatsoever tend toward the centrjt of the earth ! 'But Sir 
Isaac NewtQn has found, that those bulky and weighty 
bodies, the earth and all the planets, tend toward the 
centre of the sun, whereby the authority of near three 
thousand years or more is not only called in question, 
but actually refuted and renounced. 

Again : Was ever any thing more universally agreed 
among the nation of the poets and critics, than that 
Homer and Virgil are inimitable writers of heroic 
poems ? and whoever presumed to attack their writ- 
ings, or their reputation, was either condemned for his 
malice, or derided for his folly. These ancient authors 
have been supposed to derive peculiar advantages to 
aggrandize their verses from the heathen theology, and 
that variety of appearances in which they could repre- 
sent their gods, and mingle them with the affairs of 
men. Yet within these few years. Sir Richard Black- 
more (whose prefaces are universally esteemed superior 
in their kind to any of his poems) has ventured to pro- 
nounce some noble truths in that excellent preface to 
his poem called Alfred, and has bravely demonstrated 
there, beyond all possible exception, that both Virgil 
'and Homer are often guilty of very gross blunders, in- 
decencies, and shameful improprieties ; and that they 
were so far from deriving any advantage from the rab- 
ble of heathen gods, that their theology almost una- 
voidably exposed them to many of those blunders ; 
and that it is not possible upon the foot of gentile su- 
perstition to write a perfect epic poem: whereas the 
sacred religion of the Bible would furnish a poem with 
much more just and glorious scenes, and a nobler ma- 
chinery. 

Mr. Dennis also had made it appear in his essays 
some years before, that there were no images so sub- 
lime in the brightest of the heathen writers, as those 
with which we are furnished in the poetic parts of the 



240 IMPROVEMENT 

holj'^ scripture ; and Rajiin, the French critic, dared t« 
proft'ss the same sentiments, notwithstanding the 
world of poets and critics had so universally and unan- 
imously exalted the heathen writers to the sovereignty 
for so many ages. If we would find out the truth in 
many cases, we must dare to deviate from the long- 
heaten track, and venture to think with a just and un- 
biassed liberty. 

Though it be necessary to guard against the evil in- 
fluences of authority, and the prejudices derived 
thence, because it has introduced thousands of errors 
and mischiefs into the world, yet there are three emi- 
nent and remarkable cases wherein authority, or the 
sentiments of other persons, must or will determine the 
judgments and practice of mankind. 

1. Parents are appointed to judge for their children 
in their younger years, and to instruct them what they 
should believe, and what they should practise in the 
civil and religious life. This is a dictate of nature, and 
doubtless it would have been so in a state of inno- 
cence. It is impossible that children should be capa- 
ble of judging for themselves before their minds are 
furnished with a competent number of ideas, before 
they are acquainted with any principles and rules of 
just judgment, and before their reason is grown up to 
any degrees of maturity, and proper exercises upon 
such subjects. 

I will riot say that a child ought to believe nonsense 
and impossibility because his father bids him ; for so 
far as the impossibility appears, he cannot believe it : 
nor will I say he ought to assent to all the false opinions 
of his parents, or to practise idolatry and murder, or 
miscbief, at their command ; yet a child knows not 
any better way to find out what he should believe, and 
wbat he should practise, before he can possibly jud^e 
for himself, than to run to his parents and receive their 
sentiments and their directions. 

You will say this is hard indeed, that the child of a 
heathen idolator, or a cruel cannibal, is laid under a 
sort of necessity by nature of sinning against the light 
of nature ; 1 grant it is hard indeed, but it is only 
owing to our original fall and apostacy ; the law of 
nature continues as it was in innocence, namely, That 
a parent should judge for his child ; but if the parent 



OF THE MIND. 241 

jtidges ill, the child is greatly exposed hy it, through 
that universal disorder that is brought into the >vorid 
by the sin of Adam our common father ; and from the 
equity and goodness of God, we mav reasonably infer, 
that the great Judge of all will do right : be will balance 
the ignorance and incapacity of the child with the 
crimibal nature of the offence in those puerile instances, 
and will not punish beyond just d^nneiit. 

Besides, what could God, as a Creator, do better for 
children in their minority, than to commit them to the 
care and instruction of parents? None are supposed to 
be so much concerned for the happiness of children as 
their parents are ; therefore it is the safest step to hap- 
piness, according to the original law of creation, tc fol- 
low their directions, their parents' reason acting for 
them before they have reason of their own in proper 
exercise ; nor indeed is there any better general rule 
in our fallen state by which children are capable of 
being governed, though in many particular cases it 
may lead them far astray from virtue and happiness. 

If children by Providence be cast under some hap- 
pier instructions, contrary to their parents' erroneous 
opinions, 1 cannot say it is the duty of such children 
to follow «rror when they discern it to be error, be- 
cause their father believes it ; what I said before is to 
be interpreted only of those that are under the imme- 
diate care and education of their parents, and not yet 
arrived at years capable of exammation. I know not 
how th«se can be freed from receiving the dictates of 
parental authority in 'their youngest years, except by 
immediate or divine inspiration. 

It is hard to say at what exact time of life the child 
is exempted from the sovereignty of parental dictates. 
Perhaps it is much juster to suppose that this sovereignty 
diminishes by degrees, as the child grows in under- 
standing and capacity, and is more and more capable of 
exerting his own intellectual powers, than to limit this 
matter by rnonths and years. 

When childhood and youth are so far expired that 
the reasoning faculties are grown up to any just meas- 
ure of maturity, it is certain that persons ought to begin 
to inquire into the reasons of their own faith and prac- 
tice in all the affairs of life and religion : but as reason 
does not arrive at this power and self-sufficiency in any 



242 . IMPROVEMENT 

single moment of time, so there is no single moment 
■when a child should at once cast off all its former beliefs 
and practices ; but by degrees, and in slow succession, 
he should examine them, as opportunity and advantage 
may oiFer, and either confirm, or doubt of, or change 
them, according to the leadings of conscience and rea- 
son, with all its best advantages of information. 

When WQ. are arrived at manly age, there is no per- 
son on earth, no set or society of men whatsoever, 
that have power and authority given them by God, the 
creator and governor of the world, absolutely to dic- 
tate to others their opinions or practices in the moral 
and religious life. God has ^iven every man reason to 
judge foi- himself, in higher or m lower degrees. Where 
less is given, less will be required. But we are justly 
chargeable with criminal slcth, and misimprovement 
of the talei«its with w-hich our Creator has entrusted us, 
if w^e take all things for granted, which others assert, 
and believe and practise all things which they dictate, 
without due examination. 

11. Another case wherein authority must govern our 
assent, is in mnny matters of fact. Here we may and 
ought to he determined by the declarations or narra- 
tives of other men ; though I must confess this is usual- 
ly c;'Hed testimony rather than authority. It is upon 
this foot, that every son or daughter among mankind 
are required to believe that such and such persons are 
their parents, for they can never be informed of it, but 
by the dictates of others. It is by testimony, that we 
are to believe the laws of our country, and to pay all 
proper deference to the prince, and to magistrates in 
subordinate degrees of authority, though we did not 
actually see them chosen, crowned, or invested with 
their title and character. It is by testimony that we 
are necessitated to believe there is such a city as Can- 
terbury, or York, though perhaps we have never been 
at either ; that there are such persons as Papists at 
Pari<» :ind Rome, and that there are many sottish and 
cruel tenets in their religion. It is by testnnony we be- 
lieve that Christianity and the books of the bible have 
been faithfully delivered down to us through many 
generations ; that there was such a person as Christ 
our Saviour, that he wrought miracles, and died on the 
ccoss, that he ro«e again and ascended to heavers. 



OF THE MIND. 243 

The authoritv or testimony of men, if they are wise 
and honest, if they ha.d full opportunities and capacities 
of knowing the truth, and are free from all suspicion of 
deceit in relating it, ought to sway our assent ; especial- 
ly when multitudes concur in the same testimony, and 
when there are many other attending circumstances 
that raise the proposition which they dictate to the 
degree of moral certainty. 

But in this very case, even in matters of fact, and 
affairs of history, we should not too easily give in to all 
the dictates of tradition, and the pompous pretences 
to the testimony of men, till we have, fairly examined 
the several things which are necessary to make up a 
credible testimony, and to lay a just foundation for our 
belief. There are and have 'been, so many falsehoods 
imposed upon mankind, with specious pretences of eye 
and ear witnesses, that should make us wisely cautious 
and justly suspicious of reports, where the concurrent 
signs of truth do not fairly appear, and especially where 
the matter is of considerable importance. And the 
less probable the fact testified is m itself, the greater 
evidence may we justly demand of the veracity of that 
testimony on which it claims to be admitted. 

HI. The last case wherein authority must govern 
us is, when we are called to believe what persons under 
inspiration have dictated to us. This is not pripj.riy 
the authority of men, but of God himself; and we 
are obliged to believe what that authority asserts, 
though our reason at present may not be able any other 
way, to discover the certainty or evidence of the prop- 
osition ; it is enough if our faculty of reason, in its best 
exercise, can discover the divine authority whicri has 
proposed it. Where doctrines of divine revelation ;ire 
plainly published, together with sufficient proofs of 
their revelation, all mankind are bound to receive them, 
though they cannot perfectly understand them ; for we 
know that God is true, and cannot dictate falsehood. 

But if these pretended dictates are directly contrary 
to the natund faculties of understanding and reason, 
which^God has given us, we may be well assured these 
dictates were never revealed to us by God himself. 
When persons are really influenced by authority to 
believe pretended mjsteritss, in plain opposition to 



244 IMPROVEMENT 

reason, and j^et pretend reason for what they believer 
this is but a vain amusement. 

There is no reason whatsoever, that can prove or es- 
tablish any authority so firmly, as to give it power to 
dictate in matters of belief, wliat is contrary to all the 
dictates of our reasonable nature. God himself has 
never ^iven us any such revelations ; and 1 think it may 
be said, with reverence, he neither can nor will do it, 
unless n»i chanj^e our faculties from what they are at 
pres^^nt. To tell us we must believe a proposition 
which i« plainly contrary to reason, is to tell us that we 
must believe two ideas are joined, while, (if we attend 
to reason) we plainly see and know them to be dis- 
joined. 

What could ever have established the nonsense of 
tra:isubstantiation in the world, if men had been fixed 
i:. litis great truth, that Gud gives no revelation con- 
tr dictory to our own reason? Things may be above 
our reason, that is, reason may have but obscure ideas 
of them, or reason may not see the connexion of these 
ideas, or may not know at present the certain and ex- 
gict manner of reconciling such propositions either with 
one another, or with other rational truths, as I have 
explained in some of my logical papers : but when 
tlv :y stand directly and plainly against all sense and. 
reason, as transubstantiation does, no divine authority 
can ba pretended to enforce their belief, and human 
authority is impudent to pretend to it. Yet this human 
authority, in the Popish countries, has prevailed over 
miliio:is of souls, because they have abandoned their 
reasoi) they have given up the glory of human nature 
to be tiampled upon by knaves, and so reduced them- 
selves to the condition of brutes. 

It is by this amusement of authority (says a certain 
author) that the horse is taught to obey the words of 
command, a dog to fetch and carry, and a man to be- 
lieve inconsistencies and impossibilities. Whips and 
dungeons, fire and the gibbet, and the solemn ter- 
rors of eternal misery after this life, will persuade 
weak minds to believe against their senses, and in direct 
contradiction to all their reasoning powers. A pan-ot 
is taught to tell lies with much more ease and more 
gentle usage; bu^t none of all these creatures would 



OF THE MIND. S45 

5erve their masters at the oxpence oftlielr liberty, had 
tiiey but knowledge, and the just use of reason. 

1 have mentioned three cases, wherein mankind must 
or will be determined in their sentiments by autiiority : 
that is, the case of children in their minoritj^, in regard 
.to the command?^ ol their parents ; the case of all men 
with regard to universal, complete and sufficient testi- 
mony, of matter of fact ; and the case of every person, 
•with rej^ard to the authority of divine revelation, and of 
men divinely inspired ; and under each of these 1 have 
given such limitations and cautions as Tvere necessary. 

I proceed now to mention some other casss, where- 
in we ought to pay a great deference to the authority 
and sentiments of others, though we are not absolutely 
concluded and determined by their opinions. 

1. When we begin to pass out of our minority, and 
to judge for ourselves in iwatters of the civil and reli- 
gious iife, .we ought to pay very great deference to the 
sentiments of our parents, who in the time of our mi- 
nority were our natural guides and directors in these 
matters. So in matters of science, an ignorant and un- 
experienced youth should pay great deference to the 
opinions of his instructers ; and though he may justly 
suspend his judgment in matters which his tutors dic- 
tate, till he perceive sufficient evidence for them ; yet 
neither parents nor tutors should be directly opposed 
without great and most evident reasons, such as con- 
strain the understanding or conscience of those con- 
cerned. 

2. Persons of years and long experience of iiuman 
affairs, when they give advice in matters of prudence 
or civil conduct, ought to have a considerable deference 
paid to their authority by those that are young and 
have not seen the world, for it is most probable that the 
elder people are in the right. 

S. In the affairs of practical godliness, there should 
be much deference given to persons of long standing in 
virtue and piety. I confess in the particular forms and 
ceremonies of religion, there may be as much bigotry 
and superstition amongst the old as the young ; but in 
questions of inw^ard religion and pure devotion,or virtue, 
a man who has been long engaged in the sincere prac- 
tice of those things, is justly presumed to know more 
X 2 



24ft IIMPllOVEMENT 

than a youth with all his ungoverned passions, appetites, 
and prejudices ahout him. 

4. Men in their several professions and arts, in 
>vhich they have been educated, and in which they have 
employed themselves all their days, must L.e supposed 
t'» have greater knowledge and skill than others, and 
therefore there is due respect to be paid to their judg- 
ment in those matters. 

5. In matters of fact, where there is not sufficient 
testimony to constrain our assent, yet there ought to be 
due deference paid to the narratives of persons wise and 
sober, according to the degrees of their honesty, skill, 
and opportunity to acquaint themselves therewith. 

I confess, in many of these cases, where the proposi- 
tion is a mere matter of speculation, and doth not ne- 
cessarily draw practice along with it, we may delay 
our assent till better evidence appear ; but where the 
matter is of a practical nature, and requires us to act 
one way or another, we ought to pay much deference 
to authority or testimony, and follow such probabilities 
where we have no certainty ; for this is the best light 
we have ; and surely it is better to follow such sort of 
guidance, where we can have no better, than to wander 
and fluctuate in absolute uncertainty. It is not reason- 
able to. put out our candle and sit still in the dark, be- 
cause we have not the light of sun beams. 

CHAP. V. 

Of Treating and Managing the Prejudices of Men* 

If we had nothing but the reason of men to deal with, 
and that reason were pure and uncorrupted, it would 
then be a matter of no great skill or labour to convince 
another person of common mistakes, or to persuade 
him to assent to plain and obvious truths. But, alas ! 
mankind stand wrapped round in errors, and intrenched 
in prejudices ; and every one of their opinions is sup- 
ported and guarded by something else beside reason, 
A young bright genius, who has furnished himself with 
a variety of truths and strong arguments, but is yet un- 

* For the nature and rauses of prpjudices. and for the preventing or 
curing them iu ouisehes, see the Doctor's System of Lugin, Part II. 
Cbap, III. Qi the springs of faJse judgment, or the doctrine of prejudice?'. 



OF THE MIND. 247 

•acquainted with the world, goes forth from the schools 
like a knight-errant, presuming hravely to vanquish the 
follies of men, and to scatter light and truth through 
ali his acquaintance. But he meets with huge giants and 
ch;mfed castlesi, strong prepossessions of mind, habits, 
customs, educations, aijthority, interest, together with 
all the various passions of men, armed and obstinate to 
defend their old opinions ; and he is strangely disap- 
pointed in his generous attempts. He finds now that 
he must not trust merely to the sharpness of his steef, 
and to the strength of his arm, but he must manage 
the weapons of his reason with much dexterity and 
artifice, with skill and address, or he shall never be able 
to subdue errors, and to convince mankind. 

Where prejudices are strong, there are these several 
methods to be practised, in order to convince persons 
of their mistakes, and make a way for truth to enter 
into their minds. 

I. By avoiding the power and influence of the preju- 
dice, without any direct attack upon it: and this is 
done, by choosing all the slow, softened distant meth- 
ods of proposing your own sentiments, and your argu- 
ments for them, and by degrees leading the person step 
by step into those truths which his prejudices would 
not bear if they were proposed all at once. 

Perhaps your neighbour is under the influence of 
superstition and bigotry, in the simplicity of his soul ; 
you must not immediately run upon him with violence, 
and show him the absurdity or folly of his own opinions, 
though you might be able to set them in a glaring light ! 
but you must rather begin at a distance, and establish 
his assent to some familiar and easy propositions, which 
have a tendency to refute his mistakes, and to confirm 
the truth, and then silently obsf-rve what impression 
this mak<^s upon him, and proceed by slow degrees as 
he is able to bear; and you must carry on the work, 
perhaps at distant seasons of conversation. The ten- 
der or diseased eye cannot bear a deluge of light at 
once. 

Therefore we are not to consider our arguments 
merely according to our own notions of then- force, 
and from thence expect the immediate conviction of 
others ; but we should regard how they are likely to 
be received by the persons we converse with ; and \ht^ 



248 IMPROVEMENT 

manage our reasoning as the nurse j^ives a child drink 
by slow degrees, lest the infant should be ehoaked and 
return it all back again, if poured in too hastily. If 
your wine be ever so good, and you are ever so fiber;; * 
in bestowing it on your neighbour, yet if his bottle, 
into which you attempt to pour it with freedom, has a 
narrow mouth, you will sooner overset the bottle than 
fill it with wine. 

Overhastiness and vehemence in arguing is oftentnnrs 
the effect of pride ; it blunts the poignancy of the ar- 
gument, breaks its force, and disappoints the pnd. If 
you were to convince a person of the falsehood of the 
doctrine of transubstantiation, and you take up the 
consecrated bread before him and say, " You may see, 
and taste, and feel, this is nothing but bread, therefore 
•whilst you assert that God commands you to believe 
it is not bread, you must wickedly accuse God of com- 
manding you to tell a lie." 'This sort of language 
would only raise the indignation of the person against 
you, instead of making any impressions upon him. He 
"will not so much as think at all on the argument you 
have brought, but he rages at you as a profane wretch, 
setting up your own sense and reason above sacred 
authority ; so that though what you affirm is a truth of 
great evidence, yet you lose the benefit of your whole 
argument by an ill mana^ment, and the unseasonable 
use of it. 

II. We may expressly allow and indulge those pro- 
^Tudices for a season, which seem to stand against the 
truth, and endeavour to introduce the truth by degrees, 
■while those prejudices are expressly allowed, till by de- 
grees the advancing truth may of itself wear out the 
prejudice. Thus God himself dealt with his own ppo- 
ple the Jews after the resurrection of Christ ; for 
though from the following days of Pentecost, when 
the gospel wasproclaimed and confirmed at Jerusalem, 
the Jewish ceremonies began to be void and ineffectu- 
al for any divine purpose, yet the Jews who received 
Christ the Messiah, were permitted to circumcise their 
children, and to practise many Levitical forms, till that 
constitution which then waxed old should in time van- 
ish away. 

Where the preiudices of mankind cannot be conquer- 
ed'at once, but they will rise up in arms against the 



OF THE MIND. 249 

evidence of truth, we must make some allowances, and 
"V'ield to them for the present, as far as we can safely do 
it without real injury to truth ; and if we would have any 
success in our endeavours to convince the world, we 
must practise this complaisance for the benefit of man- 
kind. 

Take a student Avho has deeply imbibed the princi- 
ples of the peripatetics, and imagines certain immaterial 
Dcrngs, called substantial forms, to inhabit every herb, 
flower, mineral, metal, fire, water, fcc. and to be the 
sprin;^ of all its properties and operations ; or take a 
Flytonist who believes an ardma mundi, an universal 
soul of the world to pervade all bodies, to act in and 
by them according to their nature, and indeed to give 
them their nature and their special powers ; perhaps it 
may be very hard to convince these persons by argu- 
ments, and constrain them to yield up these fancies. 
Well then let the one believe his universal soul, and the 
other go on with his notion of substantial forms, and at 
the same time teach them how, by certain original 
laws of motion, and the various sizes, shapes and situ- 
ations of the parts of matter, allowing a continued divine 
concourse in and with all, the several appearances ia 
nature may be solved, and the variety of effects pro- 
duced, according to the corpuscular philosophy, im- 
proved by Descartes, Mr. Boyle, and Sir Isaac New- 
ton ; and when thejr have attained a degree of skill in 
this science, they will see these airy notions of theirs, 
these imaginary powers to be so useless and unnecessa- 
ry, that they will drop them of their own accord ; the 
peripatetic forms will vanish from the mind like a 
dream, and the Platonic soul of the world will expire. 

Or suppose a young philosopher under a powerful 
persuasion, that there is nothing but what has three 
dimensions, length, breadth, and thickness, and conse- 
quently that every finite being has a figure or shape 
(for shape is but the terra and boundary of dimension :) 
suppose this person through the long prejudiceB of 
sense and imagination, cannot be easily brough: to 
Cfjnceive of a spirit or a thinking being without Btiupe 
and dimensions ; let him then continue to conceive a 
spirit with dimensions ; but be sure in all his concep- 
tions to retain the idea of cogitation, or a power of 
thinking, and thus proceed to plilosophize upon th& 



t50 IMPROVEMENT 

subject. Perhaps in a little time he will find, that 
len^h, breadth, and shape, have no share in any ol ihc 
actions of a spirit ; and that he can manifest all the pro- 
perties and relations of such a being, with all its ope- 
rations of sensation, volition, k.c. to be as well per- 
formed without the use of this suppos^ shape, or 
these dimensions; and that all these operations and 
these attributes may be ascribed to a spirit, considered 
merely as a power of thinking. And when he further 
conceives that God, the infinite Spirit, is an almighty, 
self-existing, thinking power, without shape and dimen- 
sions of length, breadth, and depth, he may iben sup- 
pose the human spirit may be an inferior self-subsist- 
ing power of thought ; and he may be inclined to drop 
the idea of dimension and figure by degrees, when he 
sees and is convinced they do nothing towaids think- 
ing, nor are they necessary to assist or explain the 
operations or properties of a spirit. 

I may give another instance of the same practice, 
where there is a prejudicate fondness of particular 
ivords and phrases. Suppose a man is educated in an 
unhapny form of speech, whereby he explains some 
great doctrine of the gospel, and by the means of this 
phrase he has imbibed a very false idea of that doc- 
trine, yet he is so bigotted to his form of words, that 
he imagines if those words are omitted the doctrine is 
lost. Now, if I cannot possibly persuade him to part 
with his improper terms, I will indulge them a little, 
and try to explain them in a scriptural sense, rather 
than let him go on in his mistaken ideas. 

Credonius believes that Christ descended into hell : 
I think the word heU, as now commonly understood, is 
very improper here ; but since the bulk of Christians, 
and Credonins among them, will by no means part 
with the word out of their English creed, 1 will explain 
the %vord hell to signify the state of the dead, or the 
separate state of souls ; and thus lead my friend 
into more just ideas of the truth, namely, that the soul 
of Christ existed three days in the state of separation 
from his body, or was in the invisible world, wi)ich 
might originally be called hell in English as well as 
hades in Greek. 

Anilla has been bred a Papist all her days, and though 
she does BOt know much of religion, yet siie resolves 



OF THE MIND. 251 

never to part from the Roman Catholic faith, and is 
obstinately bent against a change. Now I cannot 
think it unlawful to teach her the true Christian, that is, 
the Protestant religion, out of the epistle to the Ro- 
mans, and show her that the same doctrine is con- 
tained in the Catholic Epistles of St. Peter, James, 
and Jude: and thus let her live and die a good Chris- 
tian, in the belief of the religion I teach her out of the 
IVew Testament, while she imagines she is a Roman 
Catholic still, because she finds the doctrine she is 
taught in the Catholic Epistles, and in that to tlie Ro- 
mans. 

1 grant it is most proper there should he different 
words (as far as possible) applied to different ideas ; and 
this rule should never be dispensed with, if we had to 
do only with the reason of mankind ; but their various 
prejudices and zeal for some party-phrases sometimes 
make it necessary that we should lead them into truth 
under the covert of their own beloved forms of speech, 
rather than permit them to live and die obstinate and 
unconvincible in any dangerous mistake : whereas an 
attempt to deprive them of their old established words, 
would raise such a tumult within them, as to render 
their conviction hopeless. 

III. Sometimes we may make use of the very pre- 
judices under which a person labours, in order to 
convince him of some particular truth, and argue with 
him upon his own professed principles as though 
they were true. This is called argumentum ad homi- 
nem, and is another way of dealing with the prejudices 
of men. 

Suppose a Jew lies sick of a fever, and is forbidden 
flesh by his physician ; but hearing that rabbits were 
provided for the dinner of the family, desired earnestly 
to eat of them ; and suppose he became impatient 
because his physician did not permit him, and he in- 
sisted upon it, that it could do him no hurt ; surely 
rather than let him persist in that fancy and that desire, 
to the danger of his life, I would tell him that these 
animals were strangled, which sort of food was for- 
bidden by the Jewish law, though 1 myself may believe 
that law is now abolished. 

In the same manner was Tenerilla persuaded to let Da- 
mon, her husband, prosecute a thiefi' who broke op^ 



25£ IMPROVEMENT 

their house on Sund.iy. At first she ahliorrcd tht 
thoughts of it, :.ad refused it utterly, because, if the 
thief were condemned, accordinj* to tlio English law, 
he must be hanged; where (said she) the law of God 
in the writiii3;s of Moses does not appoint death to he 
the punishment of such criminals, nut tells us tliat a 
thief shall be sold for his theft, Exod. xxii. i5. But 
when Damon could no otherwise convince her that 
the thief ought to be prosecuted, he put her in mind 
that the theft was committed on a Sunday mor- 
ninrr ; now the same law of Moses requires ihat the 
Sahi) ith-breaker shall surely be put to death, Exod. 
xx\i. 15. Numb. xv. 35. This argument prevailed 
with Teuerilla, and she consented to the prosecution. 

Encrates used the same means of conviction when 
he saw a Mahometan drink wine to excess, and heard 
him maintain the lawfulness and pleasure of drunken- 
ness: Encrates reminded him, that his own prophet Ma- 
homet had uttei ly forbidden all wine to his followers ; 
and the good man restrained his vicious appetite; bj-- 
his superstition, when he could no otherwise convince 
him that drunkenness was unlawful, nor withhold him 
from excess. 

Where we find any person obstinately persisting in a 
mistake in opposition to all reason, especially if the mis- 
take be very injurious or pernicious, and we know this 
person wiH hearken to the sentiment or autlioriiy 
of som favourite name, it is needful sometimes to urge 
the opinion and .authority of that favourite person, 
since that is likely to be regarded much more than 
reason. I confess I am almost ashamed to speak 
of using any influence of authority, while I would 
teach the ;irt of reasoning. But in some cases it is 
better that poor, silly, perverse, obstinate creatures, 
should be persuaded to judge and act right by a 
veneration for the sense of others, than to be left 
to waivier in pernicious errors, and continue deaf 
to all argument, and blind to all evidence. They 
are but cnildren of a larger size ; and since they per- 
sist all their lives in their minority, and reject all true 
reasoning, surely we may try to persuaiie them to 
practise what is for tlieir owi interest by sucii childish 
reasons as they will hearken to; we may overawe 
them from pursuing their own ruin by the terrors of a 



OF THE MIND. 253 

sokmn shadow, or allure them by a sugar-plum to 
their own happiness. 

But, after all, we must conclude, that wheresoever it 
can be done it is best to remove and root out those 
prejudices which obstruct the entrance of truth into 
the mind, rather than to paliate, humour, or indulge 
them ; and sometimes this must necessarily be done, 
before you can make a person part with some beloved 
error, and lead him into better sentiments. 

Suppose you would convince a gamester that " Gam- 
ing is not a lawful calling, or business of hfe, to main- 
tain one's self by it," and you make use of this argu- 
ment, namely, "that which doth not admit us to ask the 
blessing of God, that we may get gain by it, cannot be 
a lawful employment; but we cannot ask the blessing 
of God on gaming," &:c. The minor is proved thus : 
" We cannot pray that our neighbour may lose: this 
is contrary to the rule of seekingour neighbour's welfare, 
and loving him as ourselves : this is wishing mischief to 
our neighbour. But in gaming we can gain but just so 
much as our neighbour loses : therefore in gaming, we 
cannot pray for the blessing of God that we may gain 
by it." 

Perhaps the gamester shrugs and winces, turns and 
twists the argument every way, but he cannot fairly an- 
swer it ; yet he will patch up an answer to satisfy him- 
self, and will never 5aeld to the conviction, because he 
feels so much of the sweet influence of gaming, either 
towards the gratification of his avarice, or the support of 
his expenses. Thus he is under a strong prejudice in 
favour of it, and is not easily convinced. 

Your first work therefore, must be to lead him by de- 
grees to separate the thoughts of his own interest from 
the argument, and show him that our own temporal 
interests, our livelihood, or our loss, have nothing to 
do to determine this point, in opposition to the plain 
reason of things, and that he ought to put these 
considerations t[uite out of the question, if he would 
be honest and sincere in his search after truth or duty ; 
and that he must be contented to hearken to the voice 
of reason and truth, even though it should run counter 
to his secular interest. When this is done, then an ar- 
gument may carry some weight or force with it toward 
his conviction. 

Y 



v}54 IMPROVEMENT 

In like manner, if the question were, Whether Ma- 
(rissa ought to expose herself and her other children to 
poverty and misery, in order to sujiport the extrava- 
gancies of a favourite son? Perhaps the mother will 
hear no argument against it ; she feels uo conviction in 
the most cogent reasonings; so close do her fond pre- 
judices stick to her heart. The first business here is to 
remove this prejudice. Ask her therefore, Whether it 
is not a parent s duty to love all her children, so as to 
provide for their welfare? Whether duty to God and 
her family ought not to regulate her love to a favourite ? 
Whether her neighbour Fioris did well in dressing up 
her daughters with expensive gaudery, and neglecting 
the education of her son till she saw his ruin ? Perhaps 
by this method she may be biought to see, thatfjarticu- 
lar fondness for one child should have no weight or 
force in determining the judgment in opposition to 
plain duty; and she may then give herself up to con- 
viction in her own case, and to the evidence of truth; 
and thus correct her mistaken practice. 

Suppose yoa would convert Rominda from popery, 
and you set all the absurdities, errors, and superstitions 
of that church before her in the most glaring evidence ; 
she holds them fast stiil, and cannot part with them, for 
she hath a most sacred reverence for the faith and the 
church of her ancestors, and cannot imagine that they 
were in the wrong. The first labour must be, therefore, 
to convinceher that her ancestors were fallible creatures; 
that we may part with their faith without any dishon- 
our done to them ; that all persons must choose their 
religion for themselves ; that we must answer for our- 
selves in the great day of judgment, and not we for our 
parents, nor they for us; that Christianity itself had 
never been received by hor ancestors in this nation, 
if they had persisted always in the religion of their 
parents, for they were all heathens. And when she has 
hy these methods of reasoning been persuaded, that 
she is not bound always to cleave to the religion of her 
parents, she may then receive an easier conviction of 
the errors of Rome. 

But, perhaps, of all these different methods of curing 
prejudices, none can be practised with greater pleasure 
to a wise and good man, or with greater success, where 



OF THE MIND. £5& 

success is most desirable, tiian attempting to turn the 
attention of well meaning people from some. point in 
which prejudice prevails, to some other of greater im- 
portance, and fixing their thoughts and heart on some 
great truth which they allow, and which leads unto 
consequences contrary to some other notion which 
they espouse and retain. By this means they may be 
led to forget their errors, while attentive to opposite 
truth ; and in proportion to the degree in which their 
minds open, and their tempers grow more generous 
and virtuous, may be induced to resign it. And surely 
nothing can give a benevolent mind more satisfaction, 
than to improve his neighbour in knowledge and in 
goodnes at the same time. 



CHAP. VI. 

Of Instruction by Preaching. 

SECTION I. 

Wisdom better than Learning in the Pulpit. 

X YRO is a young preacher, just come from the 
schools of logic and divinity, and advanced to the pul- 
pit ; he was counted a smart youngster in the academy 
for analysing a proposition, and is full, even to the brim, 
with the terras of his art and learning When he has 
read his text, after a short flourish of introduction, he 
tells you in how many senses the chief word is taken, 
first among Greek heathen writers, and then in the New 
Testament ; he cites all the chapters and verses exactly, 
and endeavours to make you understand many a text, 
before he lets you know fully what he means by his 
own. He finds these things at large in the critics, which 
he has consulted, where this sort of work is necessary 
and beautiful, and therefore he imagines it will become 
his sermon well. Then he informs you, very learnedly, 
of the various false expositions which have been given by 
divines and commentators ©n this part of the scripture, 



256 IMPROVEiMENT 

and it may be the reasons of each of them too ; and he 
refutes them with much zeal and contempt. Having 
thus cleared his way, he fixes upon the exposition 
which his judgment best approves, and dwells gener- 
ally five or ten minutes upon the arguments to confirm 
it ; and this he does not only in texts of darkness and 
difficulty, but even when scarcely a child could doubt 
of his meaning. 

This gramm.itical exercise being performed, he ap- 
plies himself to his logic ; the text is divided and sub- 
divided into many little pieces ; he points you precisely 
tt> the subject and predicate, brings you acquainted 
tvith the agent and the object, shows you all the prop- 
erties and the accidents tliat attend it, and would fam 
make you understand the matter and the form of it, 
as well as he does himself. When he has thus done, 
two thirds of the hour is spent, and his hearers arc 
quite tired ; then he begins to draw near to his doctrine, 
or grand theme of discourse ; and having told the audi- 
ence with great formality and exactness what it is, and 
how he intends to manage it, he names yon one or two 
|)articulars under the first general head ; and by this 
time finds it necessary to add, " He intended indeed 
to have been larger in the illustration of his subject, 
and he should have given you some reasons for tne 
doctiine, but he is sorry that he is prevented ; and 
then he designed also to have brought it down to the 
conscience of every man by a warm address, but his 
time being gone, he must break off." He hurries over 
a hint or two, which should have been wrought up into 
exhortation or instruction, but all in great haste, and 
thus concludes his work. The obstinate and the care- 
less sinner goes away unawakened, unconvinced, and 
the mourning soul departs uncomforted : The unbe- 
liever is not led to faith in the gospel, nor the immoral 
wretch to hate, or forsake his iijiquities ; the hypocrite 
and the man of sincerity are both unedified, because 
the preacher had not time. In short he hath finished 
his work, and hath done nothing. 

When I hear this man preach, it brings to my re- 
membrance the account which I have heard con- 
cerning the Czar of Muscovy, the first time that his 
army besieged a town in Livonia : He was then just 



OF THE MIND. £57 

come from his travels in Great Britain, wliere be and 
his ministers of state had learned the mathematics of 
an old acquaintance of mine : the Czar took great care 
to begin the siege in form ; he drew all his lints of cir- 
cumvallation and contravallation according to the rules 
of art ; but he was so tedious and so exact in these 
mathematical performances, that the season was spent, 
he was forced to break up the siege, and retire without 
any execution done upon the town. 

Krgates is another sort of preacher, a workman that 
need not be ashamed. He had in his younger days but 
few of these learned vanities, and age and experience 
have now worn them all off: He preaches like a man 
who watches for our souls, as one that must give an 
account ; he passes over lesser matters with speed, and 
pursues his great design ; namely, to save himself, and 
them that hear him, 1 Tim. iv.- 16. And by following 
this advice of St. Paul, he happily complies with that 
great and natural rule of Horace, always to make haste 
towards the most valuable end : 

Semftr ad eventumfestinat 

He never affects to choose a very obscure text, lest 
he should waste too much of the hour in explaining the 
literal sense of it ; he reserves all those obscurities till 
they come in course at his seasons of public exposition ; 
for it is his opinion, that preaching the gospel for the 
salvation of men, carries in it a little different idea from 
a learned and critical exposition of the difficult texts of 
scripture. 

He knows well how to use his logic in his composi- 
tions ; but he calls no part of the words by their logical 
name, if there be any vulgar name that answers it ; rea- 
ding and meditation have furnished him with extensive 
views of his subject, and his own good sense hath taught 
him to give sufficient reasons for every thing he asserts ; 
but he never uses one of them till a proof be needfuK 
He is acquainted with the mistaken flosses of expositors ; 
but he thinks it needless to acquaint his hearers with 
them, unless there be evident danger that they might 
run into the same mistake. He understands well what 
liis subject is not, as well as what it is : but when he 
Y 2 



258 IMPROVEMENT 

would explain it to you, he never says first, negatively, 
unless some remarkable error beat hand, and which 
his hearei-s may easily fall into ior want of such a cau- 
tion. 

Thus in five or ten minutes at the most, he makes 
his way plain to the proposition or theme on which 
he designs to discourse ; and being so wise as to know 
well what to say and what to leave out, he proportions 
every part of his work to his time ; he enlarges a little 
upon the subject by way of illustration, till the truth be- 
come evident and intelligible to the weakest of his hear- 
ers ; then he confirms the point with a few convincing 
arguments, where the matter requires it, and makes 
haste to turn the doctrine into use and improvement. 
Thus the ignorant are instructed, and the growing Chris- 
tians are established and improved ; the stupid sinner is 
loudly awakened, and the mourning soul receives conso- 
lation ; the unbeliever is led to trust in Chi'ist and his 
gospel, and the impenitent and immoral are convinced 
and softened, are melted and reformed. The inward 
voice of the Holy Spirit joins with the voice of the minis- 
ter ; the good man and the hypocrite have their proper 
portions assigned them, and the work of the Lora pros- 
pers in his hand. 

This is the usual course and manner of his ministry . — 
This method being natural, plain, and easy, he casts 
many of his discourses into this form ; but he is no slave 
to forms and methods of any kind ; he makes the nature 
of his subject and the necessity of his hearers, the great 
rule to direct him what method he shall choose in eve- 
ry sermon that he may the better enlighten, convince 
and persuade. Ergates well knows, that where the sub- 
ject itself is entirely practical, he has no need of the for- 
mality of long uses and exhortations ; he knows that 
Eractice is the chief design of doctrine ; therefore he 
estows most of his labour upon this part of his office, 
and intermingles much of the pathetic under evei-y par- 
ticular ; yet he wisely observes the special dangers of 
his flock, and the errors of the time he lives in ; and 
now and then, though very seldom, he thinks it neces- 
sary to spend almost a whole discourse in mere doctrinal 
iutlcles. Upon such an occasion, he thinks it proper to 
take up a little larger part of his hour in explaining and 



OF THE BUND. 25^ 

confinning the sense of his text, and brings it down to 
the understanding of a child. 

At another time, perhaps, he particularly designs to 
entertain the few learned and polite among his auditors ; 
and that with this view, that he may ingratiate his dis- 
courses with their ears, and may so far gratify their cu- 
riosity in this part of his sermon, as to give an easier en- 
trance for the more plain, necessary, and important 
parts of it into their hearts. Then he aims at, and he 
reaches the sublime, and furnishes out an entertainment 
for the finest taste ; but he scarce ever finishes his ser- 
mon without compassion to the unlearned, and an ad- 
dress that may reach their consciences with words of 
salvation. 

I have observed him sometimes, after a learned dis- 
course, come down from the pulpit as a man ashamed 
and quite out of countenance ; he has blushed and com- 
plained to his intimate friends, lest he should be thought to 
have preached himself and not Christ Jesus his Lord: he 
has been ready to wish he had entertained the audience 
in a more unlearned manner, and on a more vulgar sub- 
ject, lest the servants, and the labourers, and tradesmen 
there, should reap no advantage to their souls, and the 
important hour of worship should be lost as to their im~ 
provement. Well he knows, and keeps it on his heart, 
that the middle and lower ranks of mankind, and people 
of an unlettered character, make up the greater part of 
the assembly ; therefore he is ever seeking how to adapt 
his thoughts and language, and far the greatest part of 
all his ministrations, to the instruction and profit of per- 
sons of common rank and capacity ; it is in the midst 
of these that he hopes to fina his triumph, his joy and 
crown in the last ?great day ; for not many wise, not 
many noble are called. 

There is so much spirit and beauty in his common 
conversation, that it is sought and desired bj^ the inge-^ 
nious men of his age ; but he carries a severe guard of 
piety always about him, that tempers the pleasant air 
of his discourse, even in his brightest and freest hours ; 
and before he leaves the place (if possible) he will leave 
something of the savour of heaven there; in the parlour 
he carries oh the design of the pulpit, but in so elegant 
a manner that it charms the company, and gives not the. 
least occasion for censure. 



J>60 IMPROVEMENT 

His polite acquaintance will sometimes rally him for 
talking so plainly in his sermons, and sinking his good 
sense to so low a level ; but Ergates is bold to tell the 
gayest of them, " Our public business my friend, is 
chiefly with the weak and ignorant ; that is, the bulk of 
mankind ; the poor receive the gospel ; the mechanics and 
day labourers, the women and children of my assembly, 
have souls to be saved : I will imitate my blessed Re- 
deemer in preaching the gospel to the poor ; and learn of 
St. Paul to become all things to all men, that I may ivin 
souls, and lead many sinners to heaven by repentencCj 
faith, and holiness. 



SECTION. II. 

A Branching Sermo7i, 

1 HAVE always thought it a mistake in a preacher to 
mince his text or his subject too small by a great num- 
ber of subdivisions, for it occasions great confusion of 
the understandings of the unlearned. "Where a man 
divides his matter into more general, less general, special, 
and more particular heads, he is under a necessity some- 
times of saying^ '5%, or secondly, two or three times 
together, which the learned may observe ; but the great- 
er part of the auditory, not knowing the analysis, can- 
not so much as take it into their minds, and much less 
treasure up in their memories in a just and regularorder; 
and when such hearers are desired to give some account 
of the sermon, they throw the thirdlys and secondlys 
into heaps, and make very confused work in a rehearsal, 
by intermingling the general and the special heads. In 
writing a large discourse this is much more tolerable ;* 
but in preaching it is less profitable, and more intricate 
and offensive. 

It is as vain an affectation also to draw out a long rank 
of particulars in the same sermon under any one gene- 
ral, and run up the number of them to eighteenthly, or 
seven and twentietMy. Men that take delight in this sort 

* Especially as words may be used to number the geLerals. and figures 
of different kinds and forms, to marshal the primary and secondary ranlcs 
of particulars under them. 



OF THE MIND. S6l 

»f work, will cut out all their sense into shreds ; and ev- 
ery tiling that they can say upon any topic shall make a 
new particular. 

This sort of folly and mistaken conduct appears 
weekly in Polyramus's lectures, and renders all his 
discourses lean and insipid. Whether it proceed from 
a mere barrenness of thought, and a native dryness 
of soul, that he is not able to vary his matter, and to 
amplify beyond the formal topics of an analysis, or 
whether it arises from affectation of such a way of talk^ 
ing, is hard to say ; but it is certain that the chief part 
of his auditory are not overmuch profited or pleased. 
When I sit under his preaching, I fancy myself brought 
into the valley of Ezekiel's vision : it was full of bones, 
and behold there were very many in the valley, and 
lo, they were very dry, Ezek. xxxvii. 1, £. 

It isthe variety of enlargement upon a few proper 
heads that clothes the dry bones Avith flesh, and ani- 
mates them with blood and spirits ; it is this that co^ 
lours the di'5course, makes it warm and strong, and 
renders the divine propositions bright and persuasive ; 
it is this brings down the doctrine or the duty to the 
understanding or conscience of the whole auditory, 
and commands the natural affections into the interest 
of the gospel. In short, it is this that, under the influ- 
ence of the Holy Spirit, gives life and force, beauty 
and success to a sermon, and provides food for souls. 
A single rose bush or a dwarf pear, with all their leaves, 
flowers and fruit about them, have more beauty and spi- 
rit in themselves, and yield more food and pleasure to 
mankind, than the innumerable branches, boughs and 
twigs of a lo.^g hedge of thorns. The fruit will feed the 
hungry, and the flower will refresh the fainting; which 
is more than can be said of the thickest oak in Bashan, 
when it has lost its vital juice ; it may spread its limbs 
indeed far and wide, but they are naked, withered, 
and saplesf!. 



4U2 IMPROVEMENT 

SECTION III. 

The Harangue. 

As it not possible to forsake one extreme without run- 
nine into !i worse? Is there no medium between a sermon 
made up of sixty dry pailiculars, and a long loose de- 
clamation witbout any distinction of tbe parts of it? 
Must tbe preacber divide bis works by the breaks of a 
minute watch, or let it run on incessantly lo tbe last 
word, like tbe flowin;^ stream of tbe hour glass that 
measures bis divinity ? Surely Fluvio preaches as 
Ihougb he kr)ew no medium ; and baving taken a dis- 
gust heretofore at one of Polyramus's lectures, be re- 
solved his own discourses should bave no distinction 
of particulars in tb« m. His language tlinvs smootbly 
in a long conni'xion of periculs, ^md glides over tbe ear 
like a rivulet of oil over polished marble, .md like tbat 
too, leaves no trace behind it. Tbe attention is detain- 
ed in a geuil.'. pU-asure, and (to say tbe best tiling 
possible of it) tbi^ bearer is sootbed into sometbing like 
divme di'ligbt ; but he can {^ive tbe inquiring friend 
scarci'Iy any accoinit what it was tbat pleased him. 
He retains a faint idea of the swcetn<^ss, but has for- 
gotten tbe sense. 

Tell me, Fluvic*, is this tbe most effectual way to 
instruct ignorant creatures in tbe several articles of 
faith, and the various duties of the christian life? AVill 
such a long uniform flow of language imprint all the 
distinct parts of Christian knowb dge on tbe mind, in 
their best form and order? D(» you find such a g« ntle 
and gliding stream of words most povserful to call up 
the so«ds of sinners fr(nn their dangerous or fatal leth- 
argy ? Will this indob'ut and moveless species of ora- 
tory, make a thoughtless \>reteh attend to matters of 
infinite m.»ment ? Can a long purjing sound a\v;tken a 
sleepy conscience, and give a perishing s=inn*T just no- 
tices of bis dreadful hazard? Can it furnish bis u»)der- 
standing and iiis memory with all the awful and tre- 
mendous topics of onr religion, when it scarce ever 
leaves any distinct impression of one of th<m oi- his 
90ul ? Can you make the arrow wound where it will 



OF THE MIND. j263 

not stick ? Where all the discourse vanishes from our 
remembrancf, can you suppose the soul to be profited 
or enriched ? When you brush over the closed eyelids 
with a feather, did you ever find it give light to the 
blind ? Have any of your soft harangues, your continu- 
ed threads of silken eloquence ever raised the dead? 
I fear your whole aim is, to talk over the appointed 
number of minutes upon the subject, or to practise a 
little upon the gentler passions, without any concern 
how to give the understanding its due improvement, 
or to furnish the memory with any lasting treasure, or 
to make a knowing and a religious Christian. 

Ask old Wheatfield the rich farmer, ask Plowdown 
your neighbour, or any of his family, who have sat all 
their lives under your ministry, what they know of the 
common truths of religion, or of the snecial articles of 
Christianity ? Desire them to tell you what the gospel is, 
or what is salvation ? What are their duties toward God, 
or what they mean by religion ? Who is Jesus Christ, or 
what is the meaning of his atonement, or redemption 
by his blood? Perhaps you will tell me yourself, that you 
have very seldom entertained them with these subjects. 
Well, inquire of them what is heaven ? Which is the 
way to obtain it, or what hope they have of dwelling 
there ? Entreat them to tell you, wherein they have pro- 
fited as to holiness of heart and life, or fitness for death. 
They will soon make it appear by their awkward an- 
swers, that they understood very little of all your fine 
discourses, and those of your predecessors, and have 
made but wretched improvement of forty years atten- 
dance at church. They have now and then been pleased, 
perhaps, with the music of your voice, as with the sound 
of a sweet instrument, and they mistook that for devo- 
tion ; but their heads are dark still, and their hearts 
earthly ; they are mere heathens witli a Christian 
name, and knowlittlemore of God than their yokes ol 
oxen. In short, Polyramus's auditors have some con 
fusion in their knowledge, but Fluvio's hearers have 
scarce any knowledge at all. 

But you will tell me your discourses are not all made 
up of harangue ; your design is sometimes to inforni 
the mind by a train of well connected reasonings, and 
that all your paragraphs in their long order prove and 
support each other ; and tliough you do not distinguish 



J64 IMPROVEMENT 

your discourse into particulars, yet you have kept some 
invisible method all the vray, and by some artificial . 
gradations, you have brought down your sermon to the ] 
concluding sentence. i 

It may be so sometimes, and I will acknowledge it ; j 
but believe me, Fluvio, this artificial and invisible meth- 
od carries darkness with it instead of light ; nor is it by 
any means a proper way to instruct the vulgar, that is, 
the bulk of your auditory ; their souls are not capable 
of so wide a stretch as to take in the whole chain of 
your long connected consequences ; you talk reason 
and religion to them in vain, if you do not make the 
argument so short as to come within their grasp, and 
give a frequent rest for their thoughts ; you must break 
the bread of life into pieces to feed children w ith it, 
and part your discourses into distinct propositions, to 
give the ignorant a plain schame of any one doctrine, 
and enable them to comprehend or retain it. 

Everyday gives us experiments to confirm what 1 
say, and to encourage ministers to divide their sermons 
into several distinct heads of discourse, Myrtilla, a 
little creature of nine years old, was at church twice 
yesterday ; in the morning the preacher entertained 
his audience with a running oration, and the child 
could give her parents no other account of itj but that 
he talked smoothly and sweetly about virtue and hea- 
ven. It was Ergates's lot to fulfil the service of the 
afternoon; he is an excellent preacher both for the 
wise and unwise. In the Evening, Myrtilla very pret- 
tily entertained her mother with a repetition of the 
most considerable parts of the sermon ; for, " Here," 
said she, " 1 can fix my thoughts upon first, secondly, 
and thirdly, upon the doctrine, the reasons, and the 
inferences ; and 1 know what I must try to remember, 
and repeat it when my frtends shall ask me : but as 
for the morning sermon, I could do nothing but hear it, 
for I could not tell what 1 should get by heart." 

This manner of talking in a loose harangue, has not 
only injured our pulpits, but it makes the several es- 
says and treatises that are written nowadays, less ca- 
pable of improving the knowledge, or enriching the 
memory of the reader. 

I will easily grant, that where the whole discourse 
reaches not beyond a few pages, there is no necessity 



OF THE MIND. tGb 

of the formal proposal of the several parts, before you 
handle each of them distinctly, nor is there need of 
such a set method ; the unlearned and narrow under- 
standing can take an easy view of the whole, without 
the author's pointing to the several parts. But where 
the essay Is prolonged to a greater extent, confusion 
grows upon the reader almost at every page, without 
some scheme or method of successive heads in the dis- 
course, to direct the mind and aid the memory. 

If it be answered here, that neither such treatises 
nor sermons are a mere heap, for there is a just method 
observed in the composure, and the subjects are ranged 
in a proper order ; it is easy to reply, that this method 
is so concealed, that a common hearer or reader can 
never find it ; and you must suppose every one that 
peruses such a book, and much more that attends 
such a discourse, to have some good knowledge of the 
art of logic, before he can distinguish the various parts 
and branches, the connexions and transitions of it. 
To an unlearned eye or ear, it appears a mere heap 
of good things without any method, form or order; 
and if you tell your young friends they should get it into 
their heads and hearts, they know not how to set about 
it. ^ 

If weinquire, how it comesto |)ass that our modern in- 
genious writers should affect this manner ; I know no 
juster reason to give for it, than a humorous and wan- 
toa contempt of the customs and practices of our fore- 
fathers ; a sensible .disg;ust taken at some of their mis- 
takes and ill conduct, at first tempted a vain generation 
into the contrary extreme near sixty years ago ; and 
now, even to this day, it continues too much in fashion, 
so that the wise as well as the weak, are ashamed to 
oppose it, and are borne down with the current. 

Our fathers formed their sermons much upon the 
model of ddcfrine, reason, and use ; and perhaps there 
is no one method of more universal servrce, and more 
easily applicable to most subjects, though it be not ne- 
cessary or proper in every discourse ; but the very names 
of doctrine and use are become nowadays such stale 
and old-fashioned things, that a modish preacher is 
quite ashamed of them ; nor can a modish hearer bear 
the sound of those syllables ; a direct and distinct ad- 



-266 IMPROVEMENT 

dress to the consciences of saints and sinners must not 
be named or mentioned, tliough these terms are scrip- 
tural, lest it should be hissed out of the church like the 
garb of a round head or a puritan. 

Some of our fathers have multiplied their particulars, 
under one single head of discourse, and run up the tale 
of them to sixteen or seventeen. Culpable indeed, and 
too numerous ! But in opposition to this extreme, we 
are almost ashamed in our age to say thirdly, and all 
fourthlys and fifthlys are very unfashionable words. 

Our fathers made too great account of the sciences 
of logic and metaphysics, and the formalities of defini- 
tion and division, syllogism and method, when they 
brought them so often into the pulpit ; but we hold 
those arts so much in contempt and defiance, that we 
had rather talk a whole hour without order and without 
edification, than be suspected of using logic or method 
in our discourses. 

Some of our fathers neglected politeness perhaps 
too much, and indulged a coarseness of style, and a 
rough or awkward pronunciation ; but we have such a 
value for elegancy, and so nice a taste for what we call 
polite, that we dare not s})oil the cadence of a period 
to quote a text of scripture in it, nor disturb the harmo- 
ny of our sentences, to number or to name tlie heads ot 
our discourse. And for this reason, I have heard it 
hinted, that the name of Christ has been banished out 
of polite sermons, because it is a monosyllable of so 
many consonants, and so harsh a sound. 

But, after all, our fathers, with all their defects, and 
with all their weaknesses, preached the gospel of Christ 
to the sensible instruction of whole parishes, to the 
conversion of sinners from the errors of their way, and 
the salvation of multitudes of souls. But it has been 
the late complaint of Dr. Edwards, and other worthy 
sons of the established church, that in too many pulpits 
nowadays there are only heard some smooth cfeclama- 
tion, while the hearers that were ignorant of the gospel 
abide still without knowledge, and the profane sinners 
are profane still. O that divine grace woidd descend 
and reform what is amiss in all the sanctuaries of the 
nation !* 

* It appear* by the date, at the bottom of this paper :a MMS. that it 
was written in the year I7l8. The first, suid perhaps the second section 



OF THE MIND. 2&7 

CHAP. VH. 

Of Writing Books for the Public. 

IN the explication and distinction of words and things 
by definition and description, in the division of things 
into their several parts, and in the distribution of things 
into their several kinds, be sure to observe a just medi- 
um. We must not always explain and distinguish, de- 
fine, divide, and distribute, nor must we always omit it ; 
sometimes it is useless and impertinent, sometimes it is 
proper and^iecessary. There is confusion brought into 
our argument and discourse by too many, or by too 
few of these. One author plunges his reader into the 
midst of things without due explication of them ; an- 
other jumbles together without distinction all those 
ideas which have any likeness ; a third is fond of ex- 
plaining every word, and coining distinctions between 
ideas which have little cr no diflference ; but each of 
these runs into extremes ; for all t|iese practices are 
equal hinderances to clear, just, and useful knowledge. 
It is not a long train of rules, but observation and good 
judgment, can teach us when to explain, define and 
divide, and when to omit it. 

In the beginning of a treatise it is proper and necessary 
sometimes to premise some praecognita or general prin- 
ciples, which may serve for an introduction to the sub- 
ject in hand, and give light and strength to the following 
discourse ; but it is ridiculous under a pretence of 
such introductions or prefaces to wander to the most 
remote or distant themes, which have no near or neces- 
sary connexion with the thing in hand, this serves for 
no other purpose but to make a gaudy show of learning. 
Thelre was a jjrofessor of divinity, who began an ana- 
lytical exposition of the Epistle to the Romans, with 
such praecognita as these ; first he showed the excel- 
lence of man above other creatures, who was ahle to 

of it may seem now to be grown in a great measure out of date 5 but 
whether the third is nolrat least as seasonable now as ever, may deserve 
serious consideration. The author, since this was drawn np, hath de- 
livered his sentiments more fully in the first part of that excellent piepe 
entitled, An Humble Attempt for the Revival of Religion, &c- 



268 IMPROVEMENT 

declare the sense of his mind, by arbitraiy signs ; then h6 
harang;ued upon the origin of speech ; after that be 
told of the wonderful invention of writing, and inqui- 
red into the author of that art which taught us to paint 
sounds : When he had given us the various opinions of 
the learned on this point, and distributed w riting into 
its several kinds, and laid down definitions of them all, 
at last he came to speak of epistolary writing, and dis- 
tinguished epistles into familiar, private, public, recom- 
mendatory credentials, and what not ? Thence he 
descended to speak of the superscription, subscription, 
&c. and some lectures were finished before he came to 
the first verse of St. Paul's epiftle ; the auditors being 
half starved and tired with expectation, dropped away 
one by one, so that the professor had scarce any hear- 
ers to attend the college, or the lectures which he had 
promised on that part of scripture. 

The rules which Horace has given in his Art of Poe- 
try, would instruct many a preacher and professor of 
theology, if they would but attend to them. He informs 
us that a wise author, such as Homer, w ho writes a 
poem of the Trojan war, would not begin a long and 
far distant story of Jupiter, in the form of a swan, im- 
pregnating Leda with a double egg ; from one part 
whereof Helen was hatched, who was married to 
Menelaus a Greek general, and then stolen from him 
by Paris, son of Priym, king of Troy, which awakened 
tne resentment of the Greeks against the Trojans. 

JVcc gemmo bellum Trojanum or ditur ab ovo. 

But the writer, says he, makes all proper haste to the 
event of things, and does not drag on slowly, perpetu- 
ally turning aside from his point, and catching at every 
incident to prolong his story, as though he wanted 
matter to furnish out his tale. 

Semper ad eventum festinat. 

Though I must confess I cannot think that Homer 
has always followed this rule in either of his tw o fa- 
mous epic poems : But Horace does not hear what I 
Slay. There is also another rule near akin to the former. 



OF THE MIND. <i>69 

As a writer or speaker should not wander from his 
subject, to fetch in foreign mattcrr from afar, so neither 
should he amass together, and drag in all that can be 
said, even on his appointed theme of discourse ; but he 
should consider what is his chief design, what is the 
end he hath in view, and then to make every part of his 
discourse subserve that design. If he keeps his great 
end always in his eye, he will pass hastily over those 
parts or appendages' of his subject, which have no evi- 
d'^nt connexion with his design, or he will entirely omit 
them, and hasten continually towards his intended 
mark ; employing his time, his study and labour chiefly, 
on that part of his subject which is most necessary to 
attain his present and proper end. 

This might be illustrated by a multitude of examples ; 
but an author who would hear them together on such 
an occasion, might be in danger of becoming himself 
an example of the impertinence he is cautioning others 
to avoid. 

After you have finished any discourse which you 
design for the public, it would be always best, if other 
circumstances would permit, to let it sleep sometime 
before you expose it to the world, that so you may 
have opportunity to review it with the indifference of a 
stranger, and to make the whole of it pass under a new 
and just examination ; for no man can judge so justly 
of his own work, while the pleasure of his invention 
and performance is fresh, and has engaged his self-love 
too much on the side of what he has newly finished. 

If .in author would send a discourse into the world, 
which should be most universally approved, he should 
consult persons of very different genius, sentiment and 
party, and endeavour to learn their opinions of it. In 
the world it will certainly meet with all these. Set it 
therefore to view amongst several of your acquaintance 
first, who may survey the argument on all sides, and 
one may happen to suggest a correction whith is entirely 
neglected by others ; and be sure to yield yourself to 
the dictates of true criticism, and just censure, where- 
soever you meet with them ; nor let a fondness for 
what you have written, blind your eyes against the dis- 
covery of your own mistakes. 
Z 2 



^70 IMPR0VE3IENT 

When an author desires a friend to revise his work, 
it is too frequent a practice to disallow almost every 
correction which a judicious friend shall make; he 
apologizes for this word, and the other expression ; he 
vindicates this sentence, and gives his reasons for another 
paragraph, and scarcely ever submits to correction ; 
and thus utterly discourages the freedom that a true 
friend would take, in pointing out our mistakes. Such 
writers who are so full of themselves, may go on to 
tidmire their own incorrect performances, and expose 
their works and their follies to the world without pity.* 

Horace, in his Art of Poetry, talks admirably well on 
this subject : 

Quintilio si quid recilares, corrige, sodeSf 

Hoc, aiebat, el hoc; melius te posse iiegares 

Bis terquc expertumfrustra ; delere jtidebat, 

Et male tornatos incudi redder e versus. 

Si defendere delictum, quam verlere, malles ; 

Nulla ultra verbum,aut operam insumebatinanem, 

Qiwi sine ravali teque et tua solus amares. 

Let good Qiiintilius all your lines revise. 

And bo will freely say, mend this audtbis : 

Sir, 1 have often try'd,and try'd again, 

I'm sure I can't do better, 'tis in vain ; 

Then blot out every word, or try once more> 

And file these ill tun'd verses o'er and o'er : 

But if you seem in love with your own thought, 

More eager to defend than mend your fault, 

He says no more but lets the fop go on, 

And, rival free, admire his lovely own. Creech. 

If you have not the advantage of friends to survey 
your writings, then read them over yourself, and all 
the way consider what will be the sentence and judg- 
ment of all the various characters of mankind upon 
them ; think what one of your own party would say, 
or what would be the sense of an adversary ; imagine 

* To cut off such chicanery, it may perhaps be the most expedient for 
a person consulted, on such an occasion, to note down on distinct paper, 
with proper references, the advised alterations, referring it to the autbpr^ 
to make such use of them as he, on due deliberation, shall think fit. 



OF THE MIND. 271 

what a curious or a malicious man, Vihat a captious or 
an envious critic, what a vulg;ar or a learned reader 
would object, either to the matter, the manner, or the 
style ; and be sure and think with yourself what )^ou 
yourself could say against your own writing, if you 
were of a different opinion, or a stanger to the writer ; 
and by these means you will obtain some hints where- 
by to correct and improve your own work, and to 
guard it better against the censures of the public, as 
well as to render it more useful to that part of man- 
kind for whom you chiefly design it. 

CHAP. vni. 

Of Writing and Reading Cantroversies. 



SECTION I. 

Of Writing Controversies. 

AVhEN a person of good sense writes on any con- 
troverted subject, he will generally bring the strongest 
arguments that are usually to be found for the support 
of his opinion ; and when that is done, he will repre- 
sent the most powerful objections against it, in a fair 
and candid manner, giving them their full force, and at 
last will put in such an answer to those objections, as 
he thinks will dissipate and dissolve the force of them ; 
and herein the reader will generally find a full view of 
the controversy, together with the main strength of 
argument on both sides. 

When a good writer has set forth his own opinion 
at large, and vindicated it with its fairest and strongest 
proofs, he shall be attacked by some pen on the other 
side of the question ; and if his opponent be a wise and 
sensible writer, he will show the best reasons Avhy the 
former opinions cannot be true ; that is, he will draw 
out the objections against them in their fullest array, 
in order to destroy what he supposes a mistaken opin- 
ion ; and here we may reasonably suppose that an op- 
ponent will draw up his objections against the supposed 



272 IMPROVEMENT 

error in a brighter light, and with stronger evideuc«* 
than the ftrst writer did, who propounded his opinion, 
which was contrary to those objections. 

If, in the third place, the first, writer answers his op- 
ponent with care and diligence, and maintains his own 
point against the objections which were raised in the 
best manner ; the reader may then generally presume, 
that in these three pieces he has a complete view of 
the controversy, together with the most solid and 
powerful arguments on both sides of the debate. 

But when a fourth, and fifth, and sixth volume ap- 
pear, in rejoinders and replies, we cannot reasonably 
expect any great degrees of light to be derived from 
them ; or that much further evidences for truth should 
be found in them ; and it is sufficiently evident from 
daily experience, that many mischiefs attend this pro- 
longation of controversies among men of learning, 
which for the most pttrt do injury to the truth, either 
by turning the attention of the reader quite away from 
the original point to other matters, or by covering the 
truth with a multitude of occasional incidents and per- 
plexities which serve to bewilder rather than guide a 
faithful inquirer. 

Sometimes, in these latter volumes, the writers on 
both sides will hang upon little words and occasional 
expressions, of their opponent, in order to expose 
them, which have no necessary connexion with the 
grand point in view, and which have nothing to do with 
the debated truth. 

Sometimes they will spend many a page in vindica- 
ting their own character, or their own little senten- 
ces or accidental expressions, from the remarks of 
their opponent, in which expressions or remarks the 
briginal truth has no concern. 

And sometimes again you shall find even writers of 
^ood sense, who have happened to express themselves 
m an improper and indefensible manner, led away by 
the fondness of self love to justify those expressions, 
and vindicate those little lapses they Avere guilty of, 
rather than they will condescend to correct those 
little mistakes, or recall those improper expressions. 
O that we would put oflf our pride, our self sufiiciency, 
and our infallibility, when we enter into a debate of 



OF THE MIND. n^ 

truth ! But if the writer be guilty of mingling these 
things with his grand argument, happy will that reader 
be who has judgment enough to distinguish them, and 
to neglect every thing that does not belong to the 
original theme proposed and disputed. 

fet here it may be proper to put in one exception tO 
this general observation or remark, namely, when the 
second writer attacks only a particular or collateral 
opinion, which was maintained by the first, then the 
fourth writing may be supposed to"^ contain a necessary 
part of the complete force of the argument, as well as 
the second and third, because the first writing only 
occasionally or collaterally mentioned that sentiment, 
which the second attacks and opposes, and, in such a 
case, the second maybe esteemed as the first treatise 
on that controversy. It would take up too much time 
should we mention instances of this kind, which might 
be pointed to in most of our controversial writers, and 
it might be invidious to enter into the detail.* 

SECTION II. 

Of Reading Controversies. 

W HEN we take a book into our hands, wherein any 
doctrine or opinion is printed in a way of argument, we 
are too often satisfied and determined beforehand 
whether it be right or wrong; and if we are on the 
writer's side, we are generally tempted to take his argu- 
ments for solid and substantial ; and thus our own for- 

* Upon this it may be remarked farther, that there is a certain spirit 
of modesty and of benevolence which never fail to adorn a writer on such 
occasions, and which generally does him much more service in the judg- 
ment of wise and sensible men, than any poig^nanc)' of satire, with which 
he might be able to animate his productions •, and as this always appears 
amiable, so it is peculiarly charming when ihe opponent shows that pert- 
nessand petulancy which is so very coinmnn on such occasions. When 
a writer, instead of pursuing with eager resentment the antagonist that 
has given him such provocation, calmly attends to the main question in 
debate, with a noble negligence of those liltle advantages which ill nature 
and ill manners always give, he acquires a glory far superior to any tro- 
phies which wit can raise. And it is highly probable, that the solid in- 
struction his pages may contain, will give a continuance to his writings 
far beyond what tracts of peevish controversy are to expect, of which the 
much greater part are borne away into oblivion by the wind they raise, 
or burned in their own flames. 



^74 IMPROVEMENT 

mer sentiment is established more powerfully, without 
a sincere search after truth. 

If we are on the other side of the question, we then 
take it for granted, that there is nothing of force in 
these arguments, and we are satisfied with a short sur- 
vey of the book, and are soon persuaded to pronounce 
mistake, weakness, and insufficiency concerning it. 
Multitudes of common readers, who are fallen into any 
error, when they are directed and advised to read a 
treatise that would set them right, read it with a sort 
of disgust which they have before entertained; they 
skim lightly over the arguments, they neglect or despise 
the force ot them, and keep their own conclusions firm 
in their assent, and thus maintain their error in the 
midst of light, and grow incapable of conviction. 

But if we would indeed act like sincere searchers pf 
the truth, we should survey every argument with a 
careful and unbiassed mind, whether it agree with our 
former opinion or no ; we should give every reasoning 
its full force, and weigh it in our sedatest judgment. 
Now the best way to try what force there is in the 
arguments which are brought against our own opinions, 
is to sit down and endeavour to give a solid answer, 
one by one, to every argument that the author brings 
to support his own doctnne ; and in this attempt, if we 
find there some arguments which we are not able to 
answer fairly to our own minds, we should then begin 
to bethink ourselves, whether we have not been hither- 
to in a mistake, and whether the defender of the con- 
trary sentiments may not be in the right. Such a 
method as this will effectually forbid us to pronounce 
at once against those doctrines, and those writers, 
which are contrary to our sentiments ; and we shall 
endeavour to find solid arguments to refute their posi- 
tions, before we entirely establish ourselves in a con- 
trary opinion. 

Volatilis had given himself up to the conversation of 
the free thinkers of our age upon all subjects ; and 
being pleased with the wit and appearance of argument 
in some of our modern deists, had too easily deserted 
the christian faith, and gone over to the camp of the 
infidels. Among other books which were recom- 
mended to him, to reduce him to the faith of the gos- 



OF THE MIND. S75 

pel, he had Mr. John Reynolds' Three Letters to a 
Veist put into his hands, and was particularly desired to 
. peruse the third of them with the utmost care, as being 
an unanswerable defence of the truth of Christianity. 
He took it in hand, and, after having given it a short 
survey, he told his friend, he saw nothing in it but the 
common arguments which we all use to support the 
religion in which we have been educated, but they 
wrought no conviction in him ; nor did he see sufficient 
reason to believe that the gospel of Christ was not a 
piece of enthusiasm, or a mere imposture. 

Upon this, the friend who recommended Mr. Rey- 
nolds' Three Letters to his study, being confident of the 
force of truth which lay there, entreated of Volatilis 
that he would set himself down with diligence, and try 
to answer Mr. Reynolds' Third Letter in vindication 
of the gospel ; and that he would show, under every 
head, how the several steps which were taken in the 
propagation of the Christian religion, might be the 
natural effects of imposture or enthusiasm, and conse- 
quently, that it deserves no credit among men. 

Volatilis undertook the work, and after he had en- 
tered a little way into it, found himself so bewildered, 
and his arguments to prove the apostles either enthusi- 
asts or impostors so muddled, so perplexed, and so incbn- 
clusivcj that, by a diligent review of this Letter to the 
Deists, at last he acknowledged himself fully convinced 
that the religion of Jesus was divine ; for that Chris- 
tian author had made it appear, it was impossible that 
that doctrine should have been pl-opagated in the world 
by simplicity or folly, by fraud or falsehood ; and ac- 
cordin}i;ly, he resigned his soul up to the gospel of the 
blessed Jesus. 

I fear there have been multitudes of such unbelievers 
as Volatilis; and he himself has confessed to me, that 
even his most rational friends would be constrained to 
yield to the evidence of the Christian doctrine, if they 
woijld honestly try the same method. 



DISCOURSE 

ON THE 

EDUCATION OF CHILDREN and YOUTH. 

INTRODUCTION. 

Of the Importance of Education, and the Design of this 
Discourse, with a Plan of it. 

X HE children of the present age, are the hope of the 
age to come. We who are now acting our several 
parts in the busy scenes of life, are hastening off the 
stage apace ; months and days are sweeping us away 
from the business and the surface of this earth, and con- 
tinually laj^ing some of us to sleep under ground. The 
circle of thirty years will plant another generation in our 
room ; another set of mortals will be the chief actors 
in all the greater and lesseraffairs of this life, and will fill 
the world with blessings, or with mischiefs, when our 
heads lie low in the dust. 

Shall' we not then consider with ourselves, What can 
we do now to prevent those mischiefs, and to entail 
blessings on our successors ? What shall we do to secure 
wisdom, goodness, and religion, amongst the next gen- 
eration of men ? Have we any concern for the glory of 
God in the rising age ? Any solicitude for the propaga- 
tion of virtucand happiness to those who shall stand up 
in our stead ? Let us then hearken to the voicfc of God 
and Solomon, and we shall learn how this may be done ; 
the ail \yise God, and the wisest of men, join to givie us 
this advice ; " Train up a child in the way he shouldgo, 
and when he is old he unll not depart from it.^^ T^e 
sense of it may be expressed more at large in this prop- 
osition, namely, Let children have a good educatioa 



OF THE MIND. 277 

given them in the younger parts of life, and this is the 
most likely way to establish them in virtue and piety in 
their elder years. 

In this discourse, I shall not enter into any inquiries 
about the management of children in the two or three 
first years of their life; I leave that tender age entirely 
to the care of the mother and the nurse ; yet not with- 
out a wish that some wiser and happier pen would give 
advice or friendly notice to nurses and mothers, of what 
they ought to avoid and what they ought to do in those 
early seasons ; and indeed, they may do much to- 
wards the future welfare of those young buds and 
blossoms, those lesser pieces of human nature, which 
are their proper charge. Some of the seeds of virtue 
and goodness may be conveyed almost into their very 
constitution betimes, by the pious prudence of those 
who have the conduct of them ; and some forward 
vices may be nipped in the very bud ; which in three 
years time might gain too firm a root in their heart and 
practice, and may not easily be plucked up by all 
the following care of their teachers. 

But 1 begin with children when they can walk and talk, 
when they have learned their mother tongue, when 
they begin to give some more evident discoveries of 
their intellectual powers, and are more manifestly ca- 
pable of having their minds formed and moulded into 
knowledge, virtue and pieiy. 

Now the first and most universal ingredient which en- 
ters into the education of children, is an instruction of 
thf m in those things which are necessary and useful for 
them in their rank and station, and that with regard to 
this world and the world to come. 

I limit these instt^uctions, (especially such as relate to 
this world) by the station and rank of life in which 
children are born and placed by the providence of God. 
Persons of better circumstances in the world should 
give their sons and their daughters a much larger share 
of knowledge, and a richer variety of instruction than 
meaner persons can or ought. But since every child 
that is born into this world hath a body and a soul, since 
its happiness or misery in this world and the next, de- 
pends very much upon its instructions and knowledge. 
It hatha right to be taught by its parents, according to 
A a 



^n IMPROVEMENT 

their best ability, so much as is necessary for its well 
being, both in soul and body, here and hereafter. 

It is true that the great uod our Creator hath made 
us reasonable creatures ; we are by nature capable of 
learning a million of objects ; but as the soul comes into 
the world, it is unfurnished with knowledge ; we are 
born ignorant of every good and useful thing ; we know 
not God, we know not ourselves, we know not what is 
our duty and our interest, nor where lies our danger ; 
and, if left entirely to ourselves, should probably grow 
up like the brutes of the earth ; we should trifle awaj' 
the brightest seasons of hfe in a thousand crimes and 
follies, and endure the fatigues and burdens of it, sur- 
rounded with a thousand miseries ; and at last we should 
perish and die without knowledge or hope, if we had no 
mstructers. 

All our other powers of nature, such as the will and 
the various affections, the senses, the appetites, and the 
limbs, would become wild instruments of madness and 
mischief, if not governed by the understanding ; and the 
understanding itself would run into a thousand errors, 
dreadful and pernicious, and would employ all the other 
powers in mischief and madness, if it hath not the 
nappioess to be instructed in the things of God and men. 
And who is there among all our fellow creatures so 
much obliged to bestow this instruction on us, as the 
persons who, by Divine Providence, have been the in- 
struments to bnng us into life and being ? It is their duty 
to give their young offspring this benefit of instruction, 
as far as they are able ; or at least to provide such in 
structers for them, and to put the children under their 
care. 

Here let us therefore inquire what are the several 
things in which children should be instructed ? And 
upon a due survey, we shall find the most important 
things which children ought to learn and know are these 
which follow. 



SECTION I. 

Of Instructing Children in Religion. 

Religion, in all the parts of it, both what they are 
to believe, and what they are to practise, is most ne- 
cessary to be taught. I mention this in the first place 
not only because it is a matter of the highest imjjor- 
tance, and of most universal concern to all mankind, 
but because it may be taught even in those very early 
years of life. As soon as children begin to know almost 
any thing, and to exercise their reason about matters 
that lie within the reach of their knowledge, they may 
be brought to know so much of religion as is necessary 
for their age and state. For instance, 

I. Young children may be taught that there is a God, 
a great and Almighty God, who made them, and who 
gives them every good thing. That he sees them every 
where, though they cannot see him ; and that he takes 
notice of all their behaviour. 

£. They must be told what they should do, and what 
they should avoid, in order to please God. They should 
be taught in general to know the difference between 
good and evil. They mny learn that it is their duty to 
fear, love, and worship God, to pray to him for what 
they want, and to praise him for what they enjoy ; to 
obey their parents, to speak truth, and to be honest 
and friendly to all mankind : and to set a guard upon 
their own appetites and passions. And that to neglect 
these things, or do any thing contrary to them, is smful 
in the sight of God. 

^ S. Their consciences are capable of receiving convic- 
tion when they have neglected these duties, or broken 
the commands of God, or of their parents ; and they 
may be made sensible that the great and holy God, who 
loves the righteous, and bestovvs blessings upon them, 
is angry with those who have broken his commands and 
sinned against him ; and therefore that they themselves 
are become subject to his dispkasure. 



280 IMPROVEMENT 

4. They may be told that there is another world 
after this ; and that their souls do not die when their 
bodies die ; that they shall be taken up into heaven, 
which is a state of pleasure and happiness, if they have 
been good and holy in this world ; but if they have 
been wicked childr-'n, they must go down to hell, which 
is a state of misery and torment. 

5. You may also inform them, that though their 
bodies die and are buried, yet God can and will raise 
them to life''again ; and that their body and soul togeth- 
er must be made happy or miserable according to their * 
behaviour in this life. 

6. They may be taught, that there is no way for such 
sinful creatures as we are to be received into God's favour, 
but for the sake of Jesus Christ the Son of God, who 
came down from heaven into our world, and lived a 
life of pure and perfect holiness, and suffered death to 
reconcile sinners to the great and holy God, who is of- 
fended by the sins of men, and now lives in heaven to 
plead for mercy for them ; and that as this Jesus 
Christ is the only reconciler between God and man, so 
all their hope must be placed in him. 

7. They may be taught that their very natures are 
sinful ; they may be convinced that they are inclined 
naturally to do evil ; and thev should be informed, that 
it is the holy spirit of God who must cure the evil tem- • 
per of their own spirits, and make them holy and fit to 
dwell with God in heaven. 

8. They should als6 be instructed to pray to God, 
that for the sake of Jesus Christ, the great Mediator 
or Reconciler, he would pardon their sins past, and help 
them by his Spirit to love and serve him with zeal and 
faithfulness, for the time to come: that he would 
bestow all necessary blessings upon them in this world, 
and bring them safe at last to his heavenly kingdom. 

9. In the last place they should be informed, that our 
blessed Saviour has appointed two ordinances to be 
observed by all his followers to the end of the world, 
which are usually called sacraments. 

The one is baptism, wherein persons are to be washed 
with water, in the name of the Father, the Son, and 
the Holy Spirit, to signify their bein^ ^iven up to Christ, 
as his disciples, or professors of Christianity ; and as aa 



OF THE MIND. Ul 

emblem of that purity of heart and life, which, as such, 
they must aim at, and endeavour after. 

The other is the Lord's supper, wherein bread is bro- 
ken and wine is poured out, and distributed, to be eaten 
and drank by Christians in remembrance of the body 
of Christ, which was put to a bloody death, as a sac- 
rifice to obtain pardon for the sins of men. 

The first of these, namely, baptism, is but once to be 
administered to any person ; but the last, namely, the 
Lord's supper, is to be frequently performed, to keep 
us always in mind of the death of Christ, till he comes 
again from heaven to judge the world. 

This is the sum ani substance of the Christian reli- 
gion, drawn out into a very few plain articles ; and I 
think a child of a common capacity, who is arrived at 
three or four years of age, may be taught some part of 
these arcicles, and may learn to understand them all at 
seven, or eight, or nine, at least so far as is needful, for 
all his own exercises of devotion and piety. As his age 
increases, he may be instructed more at large in the 
principles and practices of our holy religion, as I shall 
show more particularly in the third section. 



SECTION II. 

The Exercise and Improvement of their JVatural Powers, 

AXAVING mentioned religion as the principal thing 
in which children should be instructed, I proceed to say, 
in the second place, that children should be taught the 
true use, the exercise and improvement of their natural 
powers ; and we may for order sake distinguish these 
into the powers of the body and those of the mind ; 
now though nature gives these powers and faculties, yet 
it is a good education that must instruct us in the exer- 
cise and improvement of them ; otherwise, like an un- 
cultivated field, they will be ever barren and fruitless, or 
produce weeds and briars, instead of herbs and corn. 

Among the powers of the mind which are to be thus 
cultivated, we may reckon the understanding, the mem- 
ory, the judgment, the faculty of reasoning, and the 
conscience. 

Aa2 



282 rMPROVEMENT 



Persuade them to value their understanding as a noble 
faculty, and allure them to seek after the enrichment 
of it with a variety of knowledge. Let no day escape 
without adding some new ideas to their understanding, 
and giving their young unfurnished minds some further 
notion of things. 

Almost every thing is new to a child, and novelty 
will entice them onward to new acquisitions ; show 
them the birds, the beasts, the fishes and insects, trees, 
herds, fruits, and all the several parts and properties of 
the vegetable and the animal world ; teach them to ob- 
serve the various occurences in nature and providence, 
the sun, moon, and stars, the day and night, summer 
and winter, the clouds and the sky, the hail, snow and 
ice, winds, tire, water, earth, air, fields, woods, moun- 
tains, rivers, &lc. Teach them that the great God made 
all these things, and that his providence governs them 
all. Acquaint a child also with domestic affairs so far 
as is needful, and with the things that belong to the civil 
and the military life, the church and the state, with the 
works of God and the works of men. A thousand ob- 
jects that strike their eyes, their ears, and all their senses, 
will furnish out new matter for their curiosity and your 
instructions. 

There are some books which are published in the 
world, wherein a child may be delightfully led into the 
knowledge of a great number of these things by pictures, 
or figures of birds, beasts, &lc. well graven, with their 
names under them. This Avill much assist the labour 
of the teacher, and add to the pleasure of the children 
in their daily learning. 

You who instruct them should allure their young cu- 
riosity to ask many questions, encourage them in it, and 
gratify their inquiries, by giving them the best and most 
satisfactory answers you can frame, and accommodate 
all your language to their capacity. 

Give them, as far as possible, clear ideas of things, 
and teach them how to distinguish one thing from 
another by their different appearances, by their different 
properties, and by their diflierent effects. Show them 
how far some things agree with others, and how far they 
differ from them j and above all things teach them, as for 



OF THE MIND. 28S 

as their young understandings will admit, to distinguish 
between appearances and realities, between truth and 
falsehood, between good and evil, between trifles and 
things of importance ; for these are the most valuable 
pieces of knowledge and distinction which can be lodg- 
ed in the young understandings of children. 

2, The memory is another faculty of the soul, which 
should be cultivated and improved ; endeavour care- 
fully to impress on their minds things of worth and 
value. Such are, short and useful and entertaining 
stories, which carry in them some virtue recommended, 
some vice ridiculed or punished ; various human and di- 
vine truths, rules of piety and virtue, precepts of pru- 
dence, &:c. Repeat these things often to them by day 
and by night ; teach them these things in verse and in 
prose ; rehearse them in their ears at all proper seasons, 
and take occasion to make them repeat these things to 
you. 

Be solicitous to know what it is they learn when they 
are out of your sight, and take good care that their 
memories be not charged with trifles and idle trumpery. 
The memory is a noble repository or cabinet of the soul ; 
it should not be filled with rubbish and lumber. Silly 
tales and foolish songs, the conundrums of nurses, and 
the dull rhymes that are sung to lull children asleep, or 
to sooth a fro ward humour, should be generally forbid to 
entertain those children where a good education is de- 
signed. Something more innocent, more solid and more 
profitable, may be invented, instead of these fooleries. 
If it were possible, let a very few things be lodged in the 
memory of children which they need to' forget w hen 
they are men. 

The way to strengthen and improve the memory is 
to put it upon daily exercise. 1 do not mean that young 
children should be kept so close to their book as to be 
crammed with lessons all the day long, and made to 
receive and sustain a heavy load every hour. The pow- 
ers of the soul, (especially such as act in close concert 
with the body, and are so much aided by the brain) 
may be overburdened and injured as well as the limbs; 
the mind may be perplexed'and confounded, the head 
may be overstrained and weakened, and the health 
impaired in those tender years of life, by an excessive 
imposition on the memory ; the teachers of children 



ii84 IMPROVEMEINT 

should have some prudence, to distinguish their age 
and their several capacities ; they should know how to 
avoid extremes. 

But in general it may be said, that the powers of the 
mind as well as those of the body, grow stronger by a 
constant and moderate exercise. Every day let the 
memory of a child be entrusted with something new ; 
every day let some lesson be learned ; and every Lord's 
day at least, even in their youngest years, let them 
learn by heart some one text of scripture, (chiefly that 
on which the minister preaches :) this will grow up in 
time to a considerable treasure of scriptural knowledge, 
which will be of unspeakable use to them in the chris- 
tian life. I have known children, who from their early 
years have been constantly trained up and taught to 
remember a few sentences of a sermon besides the 
text, and by this means have grown up by degrees to 
know all the distinct parts and branches of a discourse, 
and in time to write down half the sermon after they 
came home, to their own consolation, and the improve- 
ment of their friends ; whereas those who have been 
never taught to use their memories in their younger 
parts of life, loose every thing from their thoughts, 
when it is passed oft' from their ears, and come home 
from noble and edifying discourses, pleased (it may be) 
with transient sound, and commending the preacher, 
but uninstructed, unimproved', without any growth in 
knowledge or piety. 

3. The judgment is another natural power of the 
mind, which should be exercised and improved in chil- 
dren. They should be taught to pass no judgment on 
inen or things rashly or suddenly, but to withhold their 
judgment till they see sufficient reason to determine 
them. To this end, show them, in little common in- 
stances, how often they are deceived when they judge 
on a sudden, without due consideration, and how often 
they are forced to change their opinions. Put them in 
mind how soon they have found themselves mistaken, 
when they have given their opinion too hastily. This 
will make them cautious, and afraid of being so rash, 
either in praising one thing, or in condemning another. 

Teach them to judge, not merely by outward show 
und appearance, but by searching things to the bottom, 



OF THE MIND. £85 

ibonvince them that every man who hath fine clothes 
is not rich, and that every man who talks hard words is 
not wise or learned ; and that every one who wears a 
red coat is not a soldier ; nor is every person good hu- 
moured whospeaiis very comphusant things in compa- 
ny. Take frequent occasion to show them how fre- 
"quently they will be mistaken if they judge immediate- 
ly by outward appearances of things. 

Tell them that they must not judge of things by 
custom, nor by the common opinions of the multitude, 
nor by the practices of the rich and the great ; for all 
these things may deceive them ; but that they must 
judge of things merely by reason, except in matters of 
religion, and there they must judge rather by scripture, 
or the word of God. Let them know, that customs 
change and alter, and the customs of one age or of one 
nation differ greatly from those of another ; but that 
the nature and reason of things is still the same, and 
that scripture is the constant and unchangeable rule of 
our religion. 

To confirm this, let them be informed that it was the 
custom of our ancestors in England, and it is now the 
custom in France and Spain, to say their prayers in 
Latin, and to worship images ; but it is a sinful cuistom, 
though all the multitudes of the common people agree 
in it, and though the great and rich practise it also. 
Nor is our present custom in Great Britain, of praying 
in English, and worshipping no images, to be esteemed 
the right way of worship, because it is the custom of 
the nation, but because it is agreeable to the word of 
God, which forbids us to worship images, or to pray 
in an unknown tongue. Take every occasion t0;guard 
them against prejudices and passing a judgment on 
men or things upon insufficient grounds. 
^ 4. The reasoning powers of the mind should be cul- 
tivated and improved in children. This is very near 
akin to the former, and therefore I shall be very brief 
here. 

Whensoever children give you their opinion of any 
thing, ask them to give you also, the reason why thev 
are of that opinion ; whensoever they desire or wish 
for anything, or show an aversion to it, inquire what is 
the reason of their desire or aversion ; when they have 
done any thing of their own will, ask them the reason 



286 IMPROVEMENT 

why they did it. And when you do any thing that is 
for their ^ood, show them the reason why you did it, 
and convince them that it was fit and necessary to 
be done though perhaps it was not so pleasing to them. 

By calling their young reason thus into exercise, you 
will teach them wisdom betimes ; you will awaken 
manly thoughts within them, and so lead them to a 
rational and manly conduct in their childish years ; 
by this means also you will always have a handle to take 
hold of, in order to persuade them to their duty, and to 
save them from mischief. But if their reasoning powers 
be neglected, you will train them up like the horse and 
the mole who have no understanding ; they will grow 
like brutes in the shape of men, and reason will have 
but little power over them in the following parts of 
life. 

5. Conscience is another natural power of the soul, 
wherein the principles of virtue and rules of duty to God 
and man are to be laid up : It is something within us 
that calls us to account for our faults, and by which we 
pass a judgment concerning ourselves and all our ac- 
tions. 

Children have a conscience within them., and it should 
be awfikened early to its duty. They should be taught 
to reflect aud look back upon their own behaviour, to 
call themselves often to account, to compare their deeds 
with those good rules and principles laid up in their 
minds, and to see how far they have complied with 
them, and how far they have neglected them. Parents 
should teach their children to pay a religious respect to 
the inward dictates of virtue within them, to examine 
their actions continually by the light of their own con- 
sciences, and to rejoice when they can approve them- 
selves to their own minds that they have acted well 
according to the best of their knowledge ; they ought 
also to attend to the inward reproofs of conscience, and 
mourn, and be ashamed, and repent, when they have 
sinned against their light. It is of admirable use to- 
ward all the practices of religion and every virtue, to 
have a conscience well stored with good principles, and 
to be always kept tender and watchful ; it is proper 
that children should learn to reverence and obey this 
inward monitor betimes, that every wilful sin may give 



OF THE MIND. 287 

their conscience a sensible pain and uneasiness, and that 
they may be disposed to sacrifice every thing else to 
consideration of conscience, and to endure any ex- 
tremities rather Ihan act contrary to it. 

I proceed in the next place to consider the several 
powers of the body, which ou^ht to be regulated and 
managed by the due instruction of children in their 
younger years. Now, as the God of nature has givea 
children eyes and tongues, and feet, and arms, and 
hands, it is expedient that parents should teach their 
children the proper use of them. 

1. The God of nature has given them eyes, let their 
parents teach them to use these eyes aright. Would 
It be amiss in me here to give a hint or two of this 
kind ? May not children be warned against a staring 
look, against stretching their eyelids into a glare of 
Tvildness ? May they not be forbid to look aside on any 
object in a squinting manner, when their faces are 
turned another way ? Should they not be instructed to 
look directly with their faces turned to the thing they 
look at ? May they not be taught with due courage to 
look in the face of the person they speak to, yet with 
an humble, modest aspect,^ as befits a child ? A becom- 
ing courage and a becoming modesty dwell much in 
the eye. 

Some children should be often admonished to lay 
aside a gloomy and frowning look, a scowling air, an 
uneasy and forbidding aspect. They should be taught 
to smooth the ruffles of their brow, and put on a lively, 
pleasing and cheerful countenance among their friends ; 
some there are who have all these graces by nature, but 
those who have them not may be corrected and soften- 
ed by the care of parents in their younger years.* 

2. Let parents teach their children to use their 
tongues properly and agreeably; not only to speak, 
but to pronounce their words plain and distinct. Let 



* It may here be recollected by^the way, that a. gloominess of aspect- 
does not always arise from a malignity of temper, but sometimes from 
fear of displeasing and incurring reproof-, and is therefore often to be 
removed by speaking kindly to children, and encouraging them with ex- 
pressions of candour and tenderness. To know how in such cases to di- 
vert a child, and make him cheerful and happy in the compacy of a pa- 
rent, is none of the least important caies of education. 



£88 IMPROVEMENT 

them be iustnicted to keep due and proper distances be- 
tween their word- and sentences, and not speak in swift 
hurry, with a tumalt of syllables and clutter upon their 
lips, which w-ill sound like a foreign o;ibberish, and 
never be understood. Nor should they drawl out their 
words in a slow long tone, which is ♦-.qually ungraceful 
and disagreeable. There are two other common faults 
in speaking, and where they are found they should be 
corrected early in children. 

The one is lisping, which is a pronunciation of the 
letter S or Z, or C, before E and I, as though it were 
TH. Thus instead of spice they cry ihpithe, instead of 
cease they say theathe. This may be cured by teaching 
them to pronounce a few such words as these, where 
the sound of the letter S prevails, with their teeth shut 
close ; and by forbidding them to put their tongue be- 
tween their teeth at any time, except when tk is to be 
pronounced. 

The other fault is stammering, which I suppose may 
be commonly prevented or cured by teaching children 
not to speak much, and to speak slow always; and 
they should be warned against all anger or hastiness, 
or eagerness of spirit, for such a temper will throw out 
their words faster than the organs of speech can ac- 
commodate themselves to form the syllables, and thus 
bring a hurry and confusion into their speech ; and Ihey 
should also gain a good degree of courage or becoming 
assurance, and not speak with much concern or fear ; 
for fear will stop the organs of speech, and hinder the 
formation of words. 

But 1 insist no longer on the use of the tongue in speak- 
ing. . 

3. As God bath given them feet, let parents teach 
Them to stand firm and strong, and to walk in a becom- 
ing and decent manner, without waddling from side to 
side, without turning either or both their feet inward 
without little jerks in their motion, or long strides, or 
any of those awkwardnesses which continue with many 
persons to old age, for want of having these irregularities 
corrected when they were youtig. Children should be 
indulged in their sports, sometimes in runnijig swiftly, 
and in leaping, where there is no danger, in order to 
exercise their limbs, and make them pliant and nimb)^, 
strong and active, on all occasions. 



OF THE MIND. 289 

As to their arms and hands, they were formed not 
to lie folded in their bosom, but to be engaged in some 
useful work ; and sometimes, with due moderation, ia 
robust and hardy exercise and toil ; not so as to over- 
strain their joints, but to acquire firmness of strength by 
exercise. 

And more especially those who are to get their bread 
by their hands, should be inured to toilsome and vigorous 
labours almost from their infancy ; they should be ac- 
customed to work in heat and cold, and to bear rougher 
exercises and fatigues of the body, that they may be fit 
to endure hardships, and go through those difficulties 
which their station of life may call them to, without any 
injury or inconvenience. And it is desirable, that the 
sons of all families should be in some degree inured to 
such difficulties as these, which men of all ranks are 
sometimes called to encounter. 

If some fond and tender mothers had brought up their 
children in this hardy manner, they had not now, in all 
human probability, been mourning over their graves. In 
their younger years they would scarcely let them set the 
sole of their foot to the ground, nor suffer the wind to 
blow upon them ; thus they grew up in a state of ten- 
derness and infirmity, sickly and feeble creatures ; a sud- 
den heat or a cold seized them ; their natures, which 
were never accustomed to bear hardship, were unable 
to resist the enemj^ ; a fever kindled in their blood, or 
a catarrh or cough injured their lungs, and early buried 
their parents' hopes in the dust. 

Thus have I finished the second general head of in- 
struction, that is, children should be instructed to exer- 
cise and improve their natural powers both of mind and 
body ; and this is one necessary part of a good educa- 
tion, which parents and other teachers, should attend to 
betimes. 



Bb 



29Q mPROVEMENT 



SECTION III. 



Self Govermnent, 

(children should be instructed in the art of self 
government. They should be taught, as fjir as possible, 
to govern their thoughts ; to use their wills to be de- 
termined by the liglil of their understandings, and not 
by headstrong and foolish humour ; they should learn to 
keep the lower powers of nature under the command of 
their reason ; they should be instructed to regulate their 
senses, their imagination, their appetites, and their pas- 
sions. Let it be observed, that 1 speak of these things 
in this place, not as a part of religion, though they are 
an important part of it, but give it as a direction exceed^ 
ingly useful to all the purposes of human life in this 
world. 

1. Their thoughts and fancies should be brought un- 
der early government. Children should be taught, as 
far as possible, to keep their thoughts and attention fixed 
upon what is their proper business ; and to withhold 
them from roving and wandering away from the work 
in which they are engaged. Matiy children have sucii 
wild fluttering fancies, that they will not be easily con- 
fined to fix upon one object for any considerable time; 
every flying feather, every motion of any person or 
thing that is near them, every sound or noise, or shadow, 
calls them away from their duty. — When they should 
employ their eyes on their book, or their work,'t,hey will 
be gazmg at every thing besides their task ; they must 
rise often to the window to see what passes abroad, 
when their business lies within. 

This volatile humour, if not gently altered, and wise- 
ly corrected, in early years, will have an unhappy influ- 
ence to hinder them for ever from attaining any great 
excellence in whatsoever business they undertake. 
Children should be taught therefore to call in their 
wandering thoughts, and bind them to the work in hand, 
till they have gone through it and finished it. 

Yet this sort of wandering folly should not be chas- 
tised severely in young children, nor should it be sub^ 



OF THE MIND. m% 

(Ined with violence, by too closo and rigorous a con- 
ijnt'ment to many long hours of labour or study, in 
that early and tender part of life ; such conduct might 
lireak or overwhelm an active and s])rightTy genius, 
and destroy all those seeds of curiosity which promise 
Wei' for maturer years ; but proper and agreeable me- 
thods should be used to persuade and incline the ^oung 
learner to attend to his present employment. It is far 
better to iix the thoughts to dut)^ by allurement than by 
severity ; but some way or other it ought to be endeav- 
oured, at least in a good degree. 

This fixi^dness of the mind and active powers, is not 
only of great service to attain useful knowledge, or to 
learn any business in common life, but it is of consider- 
able advantage in religion, in attendance on divine wor- 
ship, either prayer, preaching, or meditation ; where 
the mind is subject to a thousand distractions, for want 
of being taught'to fix the attention in younger years. 

Persons who have well learned the art of governing 
their thoughts, can pursue a train of thinking while they 
walk through the streets of London, nor will all the 
noise and hurry of that busy place break the thread of 
their meditations. A happy attainment this, and a fe- 
licity which hut few arrive at! 

2. Children should be also instructed to govern their 
inclinations and wishes, and to determine their wills and 
their choice of things, not by humour and wild fancj% 
but by the dictates of reason. Some persons even m 
their mature 3'ears, can give no other account why they 
choose and determine to do this or that, but because 
they have a fancy for it, and they will do it. I will be- 
cause I will, serves instead of all other reasons. And in 
the same manner they manage their refusal or dislike of 
any thing. I hate to do this thing ; I will not go to this 
place, nor do that work ; lam resolved against it; and 
all from mere humour. This is a conduct very unbe- 
coming a reasonable creature; and this folly should be 
corrected betimes in our early parts of life, since God has 
given us understatiding and reason to be the guide of 
our resolutions, and to direct our choice and all our ac- 
tions. 

3. Appetite is another thing which should be put un- 
der strict government, and children should be taught 



29£ IMPROVEMENT 

betimes to restrain it. That of the taste is the first thing 
that gets the ascendent in our younger years, and a 
guard should he set upon it early. What an unbecom- 
ing thing it is for children to be craving after e\ery dish 
that comes to a tabic ! And this they will generally do, 
if they have never been taught to bridle their craving. 
They must eat of all the pickles and sauces, and high 
seasoned meats, and gorge themselves Avith a medley 
of inconsistent dainties ; and without any restraint, lest 
little master should be froward, or Icstlittle miss should 
grow out of humour with her dinner. How often do 
they make a foul inroad on their health by excess of eat- 
ing, being tempted farther than nature reauires by 
every luscious bit which is w^ithin their signt! How 
frequently doth this indulgence vitiate their stomachs, 
ruin their constitution, weaken the springs of nature, and 
destroy the powers of animal life betimes ! How many 
graves are filled, and funeral vaults crowded, with little 
carcases, which have been brought to untimely death 
"by the foolish fondness of a parent or a nurse, giving the 
young creatures leave to eat every thing they desire ! 
Or if they happen by strength of constitution, to survive 
this pestilence, how often do they grow" up young glut- 
tons, and place their happiness jn the satir^faclion of the 
taste ! They are deaf to all the rules of virtue and abstir 
nence all their Hves, because they were never taught to 
deny themselves when they were young. O ! it is a 
mean and shameful thing to be a slave to our taste, and 
to let this brutal appetite subdue reason and govern the 
man. But if appetites must be gratified in the child, 
they will grow strong in the years of youth, and a thou- 
sand to one but they overpower the man also. 

Let but fond parents humour their little offspring, 
and indulge their children to sip wine frequently, and 
they will generally grow up to the love of it long before 
nature needs it; and by this means they will imagine 
drams are daily necessary for their support, by that 
time they are arrived at the age of man or woman. 
Thus nature is soon burnt up, and life pays for the 
deadly draught ! The foundation of much g'luttony and 
drunkenness, of many diseases that arise from intem- 
perance, and of many an untimely death, is laid in the 
nursery. 



OF THE MIND. 299 

A.n excess of niceness in pleasing the palate is a fool- 
ish and dangerous humour, which should never be en- 
couraged by parents, since the plainest food is most 
liealthtnl for all persons, but especially for children : 
and in this respect they should be under the conduct 
of their elders, and notahvays choose for themselves. 
This conduct and discipline will train them up to virtue 
and self denial, to temperance and frugality, to a relish 
of plain and wholesome food, to the pleasures of active 
health, and to a firm and cheerful old age. 

The indulgence of a nice appetite in children, is not 
only the reason why they are so often sick, but at the 
same time it makes them sobumourish and squeamish, 
that they can scarce be persuaded to swallow a medi- 
cine which is necessary for their recovery. What a 
long, tedious, and tiresome business is it to wait on some 
children whole hours together, while all the soft persua- 
sions and flatteries of a mother cannot prevail with 
them to take a nauseous spoonful, or a bitter bolus, 
though their life may seem to depend on it ! They 
Iiave been taught to make an idol of their taste, and 
even in the view and peril of death they can scarce be 
persuaded to affront their idol, and displease their pal- 
ate with a bitter draught, or even a pill which disgusts 
it. 

There are other appetites, if I may so call them, be- 
side that of the taste, which children are ready to in- 
dulge too far, if not limited and corrected by the wis- 
dom of their parents. Their eyes are never satisfied 
with seeing, nor their ears with hearing. Some youni^ 
persons cannot hear of a fine show, but they must needs 
see it ; nor can they be told of a concert of music, but 
they must needs hear it, though it create an expense 
beyond their circumstances, and may endanger their 
health or their virtue. 

1 confess freely, that I would recommend the sight 
of uncommon things in nature or art, in government, 
civil or military, to the curiosity of youth. If some 
strange wild beasts or birds are to be shown, if lions 
and eagles, ostriches and elephants, pehcans and rhino- 
ceroses, are brought into our land ; if an ingenious 
model of Solomon s temple, or some nice and admira-* 
ble clock work, engines, or moving pictures, &ic. be 
B h 2 



^M IMPROVEMENT 

made a spectacle to the ingenious : if a king be crowd- 
ed, or a public triumph proceed through the streets ; 
when an army is reviewed by a prince, when an em- 
bassador maiies a pubhc entry, or when there is a public 
trial of criminals before a judge — I will readily allow 
those sights are worthy the attendance of the younger 
parts of mankind, once at least, where it may be done 
With safety, and without too great hazard or expense. 
Most of these are things which are not often repeated, 
and it is fit that the curiosity of the eyes should be so 
far gratified, as to give people, once in their lives, an 
opportunity of knowing what these things are, that 
their minds may be furnished with useful ideas of the 
world, of nature or art, and with some notion of the 
great and uncommon scenes and appearances of the 
civil life. But for children to haunt every public spec- 
tacle, to attend with constancy every lord mayor's 
show, to seize every opportunity of repeating these 
sights, suflfering nothing to escape them that may please 
their senses, and this too often without any regard to 
their religion, their virtue, or their health ; this is a 
vanity which ought to be restrained by those to wliom 
God and nature hath committed the care of their in- 
struction, and who have a just and natural authority 
over them. But of this, and some other subjects akin 
to it, I may have occasion to speak more in the follow- 
ing parts of this discourse, when 1 professedly treat on 
the article of restraint. 

Thus I have shown how the appetites and inclinations 
of children should be put under discipline, and how they 
may be taught self government in this respect. 

4. Ttie passions or affections are the last things which 
I shall mention ; these appear very early in chihlren to 
want a regulation and government. They love and hate 
too rashly, and with too much vehemence ; they grieve 
and rejoice too violently, and on a sudden, and that for 
mere trifles ; their hopes and fears, their desires and 
their aversions, are presently raised to too high a pitch, 
and upon very slight and insufficient grounds. It be- 
comes a wise parent to watch over these young emo- 
tions of their souls, and put in a word of prudent cau- 
tion, as often as they observe these irregularities. 

Let children be taught early, that the little things for 



OF THE MIND. £9il 

which they are so zealous, for which they grieve or 
rejoice so impetuously, are not worthy of these affec- 
tions of their souls ; show them the folly of being so 
fond of these triiies, and of vexing and growing fretful 
for the loss of them. Inform them what a liappiness 
it is to have few desires and few aversions, for this will 
preserve them from a multitude of sorrows, and keep 
their temper always serene and calm ; persuade thcnl 
never to raise their hopes very high of things in this 
world, and then they will never rat^et with great disap- 
pointnif-nts. Teach them moderation in all the work- 
ings of their spirits ; and inform them that their passions 
should never be laid out thus on objects which do not 
deserve them, nor rise higher than the occasion requires. 

Teach bashful and timorous children, that they need 
be ashamed of nothing but what is evil ; that they 
should fear God in the first place, and serve him, and 
then they need not be afraid of men, or of any thing 
that threatens mischief to them ; for the Almighty 
God will be their friend and defence. Engage their 
fear and their love in the first place on God, the most 
proper and supreme object of them ; let their hopes, 
then- joys and their sorrows, as soon as possible, be tinc- 
tured with religion ; set their young anections at work 
on the most needful and important objects of them in 
early life, and this will have a sweet and powerful influ- 
ence on the better regulation of them with regard to 
All sensible things. 

Above all, let them know that they must govern their 
anger, and not let it break out on every slight occasion. 
It is anger that is eminently called passion among 
children, and in the language of common life. This 
therefore should eminently have a constant guard set 
upon it. Show them how unreasonable and unmanly a 
thing it is to take fire at every little provocation ? 
how honourable and glorious to forgive an injury; how 
much like God, and like the best of men. * Let them 
know what Solomon would inform them, that tJie pa- 
tient in spirit is better than the proud in spirit ; that he 
who is slow to anger, is better than the mighty ; and 
that he that ruleth his spirit is better than he that ta- 
keth a city. Teach them to put away their little 
quarrels and resentments, and to forget and bury them 



am IMPROVEMENT 

in love. Let them be put in mind that though anger 
may happen to rise a little in a good man, yet it rests 
and abides only in the bosom of a fool ; and therefore 
they should never grow sullen, nor let the sun go down 
upon their wrath. 

The occasions of childish resentment, and the risings 
of anger, are ready to return often, and therefore they 
should often have such warnings given them, and such 
instructions repeated. Tell them how lovely a thing it 
is to be meek and free from passionj and how much 
such children are beloved of all. Instruct them how 
much it tends to their own peace, to suffer nothing to 
ruffle or discompose them 5 and when their little hearts 
are ready to swell and grow big within them, and their 
wrath takes sudden fire, put in some pretty soft word 
to cure the return of this inward swelling, to quench thei 
new flame that is kindling in their bosom, and to as- 
suage the rising storm. Teach them by degrees to get 
an habitual conquest over thisdisorder of naturejn youth, 
and you will lay a foundation for their deliverance from 
a thousand mischiefs in the following years and events 
^flife. 

This shall suffice for the third head of instruction, 
which relates to self-government: I have dwelt the 
longer upon it, because it is of so great and evident im- 
portance towards the ease and happiness of life, as well 
as so considerable a part of religion ; and men can 
hardly ever get so successful a victory over themselves, 
Unless they begin when they are cliildren. 



OF THE MIND, 297 

SECTION IV. 

The Common Arts of Reading and Writing. 

X HE next thing that I shall mention as a matter of 
instruction for children, is the cotnmon arts of reading", 
spelling, and writing. 

Writing is almost a divine art, whereby thoughts may 
be communicated without a voice, and understood 
without hearing; to these I would add some small 
knowledge of arithmetic and accounts, asthe practice 
of it is in a manner so universal in our age, that it does 
almost necessarily belong to a tolerable education. 

The knowledge of letters is one of the greatest bless- 
ings that ever God bestowed on the children of men ; 
by this means mankind are enabled to preserve the 
memory of things done in their own times, and to lay 
up a rich treasure of knowledge for all succeeding 
generations. 

By the art of reading, we learn a thousand things 
which our eyes can never see, and which our own 
thoughts would never have reached to ; we are instruc- 
ted by books in the wisdom of ancient ages ; we learn 
what our ancestors have said and done, and enjoy the 
benefit of the wise and judicious remarks which they 
have made through the" whole course of life, without 
the fatigue of their long and painful experiments. By 
this means children may be led, in a great measure, into 
the wisdom of old age. It is by Ihe art of reading 
that we can sit at home, and acquaint ourselves with 
what has been done in the distant parts of the world. 
The histories and the customs of all ages and all na- 
tions are brought, as it were, to our doors. By this art 
we are let into the knowledge of the affairs of the Jews, 
the Greeks, and the Romans ; their wars, their laws, 
and their reli^on ; and we can tell what they did in 
the nations of Europe, Asia, and Africa, above a thou- 
sand years ago. 

But the greatest blessing that w^e derive from reading, 
is the knowledge of the Holy Scriptures, wherein God 
has conveyed down to us the discoveries of his wisdom, 



298 IMPROVEMENT 

power, and grace, through many past ages : and where- 
by we attain the knowledge of Christ, and of the way j 
of salvation, by a Mediator. 

It must he con'"essed, that in former age«?, before 
printing was invented, the art of reading was not so ' 
common, even in polite nations, because books were 
much more costly, since they must be all written with 
a pen, and were therefore hardly to be obtained by the 
bulk of mankind : But since the providence of God has 
brought printing into the world, and knowledge is so 
plentifully diffused through our nation, at so cheap a 
rate, it is a pity that any children should be born and 
brought up in civilized states without the skill of reading ; 
and especially since by this means every one may see 
with his own* eyes what God requires of him in order 
to eternal happiness. 

The art of writing is also exceedingly useful, and is 
now grown so very common, that the greatest part of 
children may attain it at an easy rate ; by this means we 
communicate our thoughts and all our affairs to our 
friends at ever so great a distance ; we tell them our 
wants, our sorrows, and our joys, and interest them in 
our concerns as tliough they were near us. We main- 
tain correspoiidence and traffic with persons in distant 
nations, and tiie wealth and grandeur of all nations is 
maintained by this means. By the art of writing, we 
treasure up ail things that concern us in a safe reposi- 
tOi\v, and as ofti^n as we please, by consulting our pa- 
per records, we renew our remembrance of things that 
relate to this life or the life to come ; and why should 
any of the children of men be debarred from this pri- 
vilege, if it may be attained at a cheap and easy rate, 
without enti'e'.ichiog upon other duties of life, and 
without omitting any morenecebsary business that may 
belont; to their station ? 

I might add here also, true spelling is such a part of 
knowledge as children ougijt to be acquainted with, 
since it is a matter of shame and ridicule in so polite an 
age as ours, when persons who have loared to handle 
the pen cannot write three or four words together 
without a mistake or blunder ; and when they put let- 
ters together in such an awkward and ignorant manner. 



OF THE MIND. 299 

tliat it is hard to make sense of them, or to teli what 
they mean. 

Arithmetic, or the art of numbers, is, as was observ- 
ed before, to be reckoned also a necessary part of a 
good education. Without some degrees of this know- 
ledge, there is indeed no traffic among men. And es- 
pecially is it more needful at present, since the world 
deals much more upon trust and credit than it did in 
fi>rraer times ; and therefore the art of keeping accounts 
is made, in some measure, necessary to persons, even 
in meaner stations of life, below the rank of merchants 
or great traders. A little knowledge of the art of ac- 
counts, is also needful, in some degree, in order to take 
a true fKU'vey, and make a just judgment of the com- 
mon expences of a person or a family, but this part of 
Jearning in the various degrees of it, is more or less use- 
ful and needful, according to the different stations and 
businesses for whichtchiidren are designed. 

As thf> sons of a family should be educated in the 
knowledge of writing, reading, spelling and accounts, 
so neither should the daughters be trained up without 
them. Reading is as needful for one sex as the other ; 
nor should j^irls be forbid to handle the pen, or to cast up 
a few figures, since it may be very mucn for their advan- 
tage in almost all circumstances of life, except in the 
very lowest rank of servitude or hard labour. And 1 
beg leave here to entreat the female youth, especially 
those of better circumstances in the world, to maintain 
their skill in writing which they have already learned, 
by taking every occasion to exercise it ; and I would 
fain persuade them to take pains in acquainting them- 
selves with true spelling, the want of which is one 
rcMson why many of them are ashamed to write ; and 
they are not ashamed to own and declare this, as though 
it were a just and sufficient excuse for neglecting and 
posing the use of the pen. 



SOO IMPROVEMENT 



SECTION V. 



Of Trade or Employment. 

M.N a good education it is required also tliat children, in 
the common ranks of life, be brought up to the know- 
ledge of some proper business or employment for their 
lives ; some trade or traffic, artifice or manufacture, by 
which they may support their exf)enc.es, and procure 
for themselves the necessaries of life, and by which 
they may be enabled to provide for their families in 
due time. In some of the eastern nations, even persons 
of high rank are obliged to be educated in some em- 
ployment or profession ; and perhaps that practice has 
many advantages in it; it engages their younger years 
in labour and diligence, and secures from the mischiev- 
ous effects of sloth, idleness, vanity, and a thousand 
temptations. 

In our nation I confess it is a custom to educate the 
children of noblemen, and the eldest sons of the gentry 
to no proper business or profession, but only to an ac- 
quaintance with someof the ornaments and accomplish- 
ments of life, which I shall mention immediately. But 
perhaps it would be far happier for some families, if 
the sons were brought up to business, and kept to the 
practice of it, than to have them exposed to the per- 
nicious inconveniences of a sauntering and idle life, and 
the more violent impulse of all the corrupt inclinations 
of youth. 

However, it is certain that the far greater part of 
mankind must bring up their children some, to some 
regular business or profession, whereby they may suig- 
tain their lives and support a family, and become useful 
members to the state. Now in the choice of such a 
profession or employment for children many things are 
to be consulted. 

(I.) The circumstances and estate of the parent; 
whether it will reach to place out the child as an ap- 
prentice, to provide for him materials for his business 
or trade, ana to support him till he shall be able to 
maintain himself by his profession. Sometimes the 



OF THE MIND. 501 

ambition of the parent and the child hath fixed on a 
trade far above their circumstances ; in consequence of 
which the child hath been exposed to many inconveni- 
ences, and the parents to many sorrows. 

(2.) The capacity and talents of the child must also 
be considered. If it be a profession of hard labour 
hath the child a healthy and firm constitution, and 
strength of body equal to the work ? If it be a profes- 
sion that requires the exercise of fancy, skill and judg- 
ment, or much study and contrivance, then the ques- 
tion will be, hath the lad a genius capable of thinking 
well, a bright imagination, a solid judgment? Is he able 
to endure such an application of mind as is necessary 
for the employment? 

(3.) The temper and inclination of the child must be 
brought into this consultation, in order to determine a 
proper business for Ufe. If the daily labour and busi- 
ness of a man be not agreeable to him, he can never 
hope to manage it with any great advantage or success, 
I knew a bricklayer who professed that he had always 
an aversion to the smell of mortar ; and I was ac- 
quainted once with a lad who began to learn Greek 
at school, but he complained it did not agree with his 
constitution. I think the first of these ought to have 
been brought up to work in glass or timber, or any 
thing rather than bricks ; as for the other (to my best 
remembrance) he was wisely disposed of to a calling 
wherein he had nothing to do with Greek. 

And here I would beg leave to desire, that none 
might be encourai^ed to pursue any of the learned pro- 
fessions, that is, divinity, law, or physic, who have not 
the si^ns of a good genius, wlio are not patient of long 
attention and close application to study ; who have not 
a peculiar delight in that profession which they choose 
and withal a pretty finn constitution of body ; for 
much study is a weariness to the flesh, and vigour of 
nature is sooner impaired by laborious thoughtful ness, 
than by the labour of the limbs. 

(4.) It should be also the solicitous and constant 
care of parents, when they place out their children int 
the world, to seek out masters for them who profess 
serious religion, who practise all moral virtues, and 
keep good order and good hours in their family. The 



302 niPROVEMENT 

neglect of this concern has been the ruin of a thousand 
youths in our days ; and notwithstanding the sensible 
tnischief arising from this negligence, yet there is stiil 
too little care taken in a matter of so great import- 
ance.* 

Thus much for this part of the education of sons. 
But you will say then, w hat business of life must daugh- 
ters be brought up to ? I must confess, when I have 
seen so many of this sex who have lived well in the 
time of their childhood, grievously exposed to many 
hardships and poverty on the death of their parents, I 
have often wished there were more of the callings or 
employments of life peculiarly appropriated to women, 
and that they were regularly educated in them, that 
there might be a better provision made for their sup- 
port. What if all the garments which are worn by 
women were so limited and restrained in the manu- 
facture of them, that they should all be made only by 
their own sex? This would go a great way toward re- 
lief in this case : and what if some of the easier labours 
of life were reserved for them only ? But this is not 
my province. 

However it may be as to this matter, it is the cus- 
tom of the nation, and indeed it hath been the custom 
of most nations, and ages, to educate daughters in the 
knowledge of things that relate to the affairs of the 
household, to spin and to use the needle, both for mak» 
ing garments, and for the ornaments of embroidery ; 
they have been generally employed in the preparation 
of food, in the regular disposal of the affairs of the 
house, for the conveniences and accommodations of 
human litV;, in the furniture of the rooms and the ele- 
gancies of entertainment. " Sarah made ready three 
measures of meal and kneaded it, and made cakes 
upon the hearth. Gen. xviii. 6. And the women of 
Israel that were wise hearted did spin with their hands 
both blue, purple, scarlet, and fine linen for the taber- 

* This danger arises in a great degree from the immoderate love of plea- 
sure that so oreneraily prevails, and leads masters into parlies and en- 
gagements, especially on the Lord's day; which not only occasions the 
neglect of religious instruction and family prayer on the evening of it, 
but sets an example to servants which they think themselves authorized 
to folio\\', tboa^'u i; be jeneraily to their own destruction. 



OF THE MIND, SQS 

wacle. Exod. xxxv. 25. Women shall bake your bread. 
JLev. xxvi. 16. Women sew pillows and make ker- 
chiefs." Ezek. xiii. 18. which words, though perhaps 
they are a metaphor in that text, yet denote the office 
or work of women. " And Dorcas maa(i coats and 
garments foi- the poor." Acts ix. 36, 39. I might cite 
many ancient Heathen authors to prove the same 
thing among the Greeks and Romans, if it were need- 
ful. 

Some of these things are the constant labours and 
cares of women in our day, whereby they maintain 
themselves ; the most laborious parts of them belong 
to the poor. And it is the opinion of the best judges, 
that even in superior and wealthy circumstances, 
every daughter should be so far instructed in them, as 
to know when they are performed aright, that the ser- 
vants may not usurp too much power, and impose on 
the ignorance of the mistress. Nature and Providence 
seem to have designed these offices for the sex in all 
ages and in all nations, because, while the men are en- 
gaged in harder and more robust labours, and are often 
called abroad on business, the women are more gene- 
rally accustomed to keep house and dwell at home ; 
and the word of God, as well as the custom of human 
)ife, recommends it. Titus ii. 5. 1 Tim. v. 14. 



^ SECTION VI. 

Rules of Prudence. 

All children should have some instruction given 
them in the conduct of human life, some necessary 
rules of prudence, by which they may regulate th.e 
management of their own affairs, 'and their behaviour 
towards their fellow creatures. Where all other sorts 
of knowledge are conferred upon children, if this be 
wanting, they make but a contemptible figure in the 
world, and plunge themselves into many inconveniences. 
Some of these rules of prudence are of a general 
natwre, ?ind necessary at all times, and upon all occa- 
sions ; others are more particular, and are proper to be 
used according to the various occurrences of life. 



304 IMPROVEMENT 

If I were to inquire what are the foundations of hu- 
man prudence, I should rank them under these three 
heads : 

1. A knowledge of ourselves. Here every on6 
fhould be taught to consider within himself, what is my 
temper and natural inclinations ? What are my most 
powerful appetites and my prevailing passions ? What 
are my chief talents and capacities, if 1 have any at 
all ? What are the weaknesses and follies to which I 
am most liable, especially in the days of youth ? What 
are the temptations and dangers that attend me ? What 
are my circumstances in the Avorld, and what my vari- 
ous relations to mankind round about me ? What are 
my constant and what my occasional duties? What 
are the inward or outward advantages that attend me, 
or the disadvantages under which 1 labour. A wise, 
a just survey of all these things, and keeping them al- 
ways in mind, will be of unspeakable use to us in the 
conduct of life, that we may set our chief guard upon 
our weak side, and where our greatest dangers lie ; that 
we may employ our talents aright, and seize all advan- 
tages to improve them for the best purpose, and 
proceed in the shortest way to piety, usefulness and 
peace. 

2. ^he knowledge of mankind is also necessary to 
-acquTre prudence. And here young persons should 
not only be taught Avhat is the general nature and ca- 
pacity, the virtues and the vices, and the follies of pian- 
Kind ; but they should be informed also, or at least 
should be taught to observe more particularly, what 
are the peculiar tempors, appetites, passions, powers, 
good and evil qualities, of the persons with whom they 
have most to do in the world ; that they may learn to 
behave wisely with regard to others, and that they may 
make a proper improvement of all the brighter and 
darker characters which they observe amongst men, 
both for their own advantage and for the benefit of 
their fellow creatures. This may have a happy influ- 
ence to lead them to avoid the vices and follies which 
have plunged others into mischief, to imitate the virtues 
of those who have behaved well in life, and to secure 
themselves from any dangers and miseries as well as 
to pity the weaknesses and sorrows of mankind, and 



OF THE MIND. 805 

S. The knowledge of the things of the world, and 
the various affairs of human life, must be included as 
one of the chief foundations of prudence. It would 
be endless to run over particulars of this kind ; but in 
a special manner young persons should apply them- 
selves to know those things which most nearly concern 
therti, and which have the most immediate relation to 
their own business and duty, to their own interest and 
welfare ; and it is a valuable part of wisdom to net,lect 
other things, and not to waste our time and spirits in 
them, when they stand in any competition with our 
proper and most important work, whether Ave considei* 
ourselves as men or as christians. 

Solomon tells us, Eccles. iii. 1, 17, and viii. 5, 6. 
There is both time and judgment for every work, and 
for every purpose under the heaven ; and that a wise 
man's heart discerneth both time and judgment ; that 
is, he judgeth well concerning what is to be done, and 
the time when to do it ; and therefore the misery of 
man is great upon him, becausp he knows not this time 
and judgment, he doth neither discern what is proper to 
be done, nor the proper season of doing it. Prudence 
consists in judging well what is to be said, and what is 
to be done, on every new occasion ; when to lie still. 
^nd when to be active ; when to keep silence, and Avhen 
to speak ; what to avoid, and what to pursue ; how to 
act in every difficulty ; what means to make use of to 
compass such an end ; how to behave in every circum- 
stance of life, and in all companies ; how to gain the 
favour of mankind in order to promote our own hap- 
piness, and to do the most service to God and the most 
good to men, according to that station we possess, and 
those opportunities which we enjoy. 

For this purpose there is no better book than the 
Proverbs of Solomon. Several of the first chapters 
seem to be written for young men, under the name of 
Solomon's son ; and all the rest of them should be 
made familiar to youth by their frequent converse with 
them, and treasuring them up in their head and heart. 

Among human writings of this kind, perhaps the 

book called Ecclesiasticus, though it be among the 

apocryphal writings, is equal to the best ot the 

aocients. And among the moderns, I know not a bet- 

C c 2 



306 IMPROVEMENT 

ter collection than the little book of Directions, Coun- 
cils and Advices, lately published by Dr. Fuller for the 
use of his son ; though I could wish he had rendered 
it more universally acceptable to all readers, by avoid- 
ing some severities on the other sex ; and that he had 
spared his little railleries on the name of saints, though 
those offensive sentences are but few. 

SECTION VII. 

The Ornamtnts and Accomplishments of Life. 

JL HE last part of instruction which 1 included in tho 
idea of a good education, is an instruction of youth in 
some of the useful ornaments and accomplishments of 
life. 

It has been the custom of our nation, for persons of 
the middle and the lower ranks of life, who design 
their children for trades and manufactures, to send them 
to the Latin and Greek schools. There they wear out 
four or tive years in learning a number of strange 
words, that will be of very little use to them in all the 
following affairs of their station ; and this very learning 
also generally taught in a very tiresome and most irra- 
tional method, wheathey are forced to learn Latin by 
grammar rules written in that unknown tongue. When 
they leave the school, they usually forget what they 
have learned, and the chief advantage they gain by it 
to spell and pronounce hard words better when they 
meet them in English ; whereas this skill of spelling 
might be attained in a far shorter time, and at an easier 
rate, by other methods,* and much of life might be 
saved and improved lo better purposes. 

As for the sons of those who enjoy more plentiful 
circumstances in the world, they may be instructed in 
the Latin and Greek languages for several valuable 
ends in their station ; and especially those who design 
the learned professions ought thoroughly to understand 
them ; and such as pursue the study of divinity must 
be acquainted also with Hebrew and Chaldec, that 
they may read the Old Testament in its original lan- 
guage, 33 well as the New. 

* See my Art of Reading and Writing, Chap. x\. 



OF THE MINI>. m 

The French is now a days also esteemed an accom- 
plishment to both sexes. U they hare time enough, 
which they know not how to employ better, and a good 
memory, I would not forbid it. There are several good 
books written in that language, which are not unworthy 
of our perusal ; and there are many words now intro- 
duced in the English language, borrowed and derived 
from thence, as well as from the Latin and Greek ; sf» 
that it may not be improper for an English gentleman 
to learn those tongues, that he may understand his own 
the better. I add also, that if persons have much ac- 
quaintance with the French nation, or have occasion to 
converse with foreigners at court or in the city, or if 
they design to travel abroad, the French is a necessary 
tongue, because it is so much spoken in Europe, and 
especially in courts. But otherwise there are so many 
of the valuable writings of French authors perpetually 
translated into English, that it is a needless thing to go 
through much difficulty, or take much pains in attaining 
it. I am inclined to believe, that, except in the cases 
above mentioned, few have found the profit answer the 
labour. As for those persons who are bred up to traf- 
fic with other nations, they must necessarily learn the 
language of those nations : and this I reckon not among 
their accomplishments, but consider it as rather a part 
of their proper business in life. 

In short it is a thing of far greater value and impor- 
tance, that youth should be perfectly well skilled in 
reading, writing, and speaking their native tongue, in a 
proper, a polite, and graceful manner, than in toiling 
among foreign languages. It is of more worth and ad- 
vantage to gentlemen and ladies to have an exact knowl- 
edge of what is decent, just and elegant in English, than 
to ^^e a critic in foreign tongues. The very knowledge 
of foreign words should be improved to this purpose ; 
and in order to obtain this accomplishment, they should 
frequently converse with those persons and books 
which are esteemed polite and elegant in their kind. 

Thus far concerning the knowledge of words. But 
the knowledge of things is of much more importance. 

1. The young gentry of both sexes should be a little 
acquainted with logic, that they may learn to obtain 
clear ideas ; to judge byreason and the nature of things ; 



508 IMPROVEMENT 

to banish the prejudices ofinfcincy, custom, and humouf ;* 
to argue ch)sely and justly on an}' subject, and to cast 
their thoughts and affairs into a proper and easy method* 

2. Several parts of mathematical learning are also 
accessary ornaments of the mind, and not without real 
advantage ; and many of these are so agreeable to the 
fancy, tRat youth will be entertained and pleased in ac- 
quiring the knowledge of them. 

Besides the common skill in accounts which is need- 
ful for a trader, there is a variety of pretty and useful 
rules and practices in arithmetic, to which a gentleman 
should be no stranger; and if his genius lie that way, a 
little insij^ht into algebra would be no disadvantage to 
him. It is fit that young people of any figure in the 
world, should see some of the springs and clues whereby 
skilful men, by plain rules of reason, trace out the most 
deep, distant and hidden questions ; and Avhereby they 
find certain answers to those inquiries ; which at first 
view seem to lie without the ken of mankind, and be- 
yond the reach of human knowledge. It was for want 
of a little more general acquaintance with mathemat- 
ical learning in the world, that a good algebraist and a 
geometrician were counted conjurers a century ago, and 
people applied to them to seek for lost horses and stolen 
goods 

They should know something of geometrj- , so far at 
least as to understand the names of the various .lines 
and angles, surfaces and solids ; toknow what is meant 
by a right line or a curve, a right angle or an oblique, 
whether acute or obtuse ; how the quantity of angles is 
jneasured, what is a circle, a semicircle, an arch, a ijiiad- 
rant, a degree and minute, adiameterand radius ? What 
we mean by a triangle, a square, a parallelogram, a pol- 
ygon, a cube, a pyi-amid, a prism, a cone, an elipsiri, an 
oval, an hyperbola, a parabola, &lc. and to know some 
of the most general properties of angles, triangles, 
squares, circles, cic. The world is now grow n so learned 
in mathematicHi science, that this sort of lang;uage is 
often used in co* nion writings and in conversation, far 
beyond what it v as in the days of our fathers. And 
besides, without some knoivlecige of this kind, we can- 
not make aoy further progress towards an acquaintance 
with the arts of surveying, measuring, geography and 



OF THE MIND. SOV 

astronomy, which are so entertauihig and so useful an 
accomplishment to persons of a polite education. 

Geography and astronomy are exceedingly delight- 
ful studies. The knowu^dge of the lines and circles of 
the globes of heaven and earth, is counted so necessary 
in our age, that no person of either sex is now esteemed 
to have hadan elegant education withoutit Even trades- 
men and the actOLS in common life, should in my opin- 
ion, in their younger years, learn something of these 
sciences, instead of vainly wearing out seven years of 
drudgery in Greek and Latin. 

It is of considerable advantage as well as delight for 
mankind to know a little of the earth on which they 
dwell, and of the stars and vskies that surround them on 
all sides. It is almost necessary for young persons who 
pretend to any thing of instruction and schooling above 
the lowest rank of people, to get a little acquaintance 
with the several parts of the land and the sea, that they 
may know in what quarter of the world the chief cities 
ana countries are situated ; that at the mention of the 
■word Copenhagen, they may not grossly blunder and 
expose themselves, as a certain gentleman once did by ^ 
supposing it to be the name of some Dutch commander. 
Without this knowledge we cannot" read any history 
with profit, nor so much as understand any common 
newspapers. 

It is necessary also to know something of the heaveD- 
ly bodies, and their various motions and periods of rev- 
olution, that we may understand the accounts of time in 
past ages, and the histories of ancient nations, as well as 
know the reasons of day and night, summer and winter, 
and the various appearances ;rnd places of the moon 
and other planets. Then we shall not be terrified at 
every eclipse, nor presage, and foretel public desolation 
at the sight of a comet; ac shall see the sun covered 
with darkness, and the full moon deprived of her light, 
without forboding imaginations that the government is 
in danger, or that the world is come to an end. This 
will not only increase rational knowledge, and guard us 
against foolish and ridiculous fears, but it will amuse 
the mind most agreeably ; and it has a most happy ten- 
dency to raise in our thoughts the noblest and most 



810 IMPROVEMENT 

magnificent ideas of God by llie survey of his works, in 
tlieir surprising gnindcur and divine artifice. 

3. Natural philosophy, at least in the more general 
principles and foundations of it, should be infused into 
the minds of youth. This is a vt-ry bright ornament of 
our rational natures, which are inclined to be inquisitive 
into th;', causes and reasons of things. A course of phi- 
Josophical experiments is now frequently attended by 
the ladies as well as g, ntlenien, with no small plea- 
sure and improvonent. God and religion may be better 
known, and clearer ideas may be obtained of the 
amazing wisdom of our Creator, and of the glories 
of the life come, as well as of the things of this 
life, by the rational learning and the knowledge of na- 
ture that is now so much in vogue. If I were to recom- 
mend a book or two on this subject, which may usefully 
be read by the ladies as well as the gentlemen, I know 
none better than Mr. Ray's Wisdom of God in the 
Creation, Dr. Derham's Discoiuses on the same sub- 
ject, the archbishop of Cambray's Treatise on the 
Existence of God, at least to the fiftieth section, Ni- 
cuinteit's Religious Philosoph«.r, and Dr. Mather's 
Christian Philosopher. These things will enlarge and 
refine the understanding, imi^rove the judgment, and 
bring the faculty of reasoning into a juster exercise, evert 
upon all manner of subjects. 

. 4. History is another accomplishment of youth and 
ornament of education. The narratives of the various 
occurrences in nations, as well as in the lives of particu- 
lar persons, slide into younger minds with pleasure. 
These will furnish the soul in time with a treasure of 
knowledge w hence to derive useful observations, infer- 
ences and rules of conduct. These will enable us to 
gratify our acquaintancf, by rehearsing such narratives 
at proper seasons, and render our own company agree- 
able and useful to mankind. 

5. Nor can our education be called completely elegant 
without something of poesy, in so very polite an age as 
this. 

While I mention some knowledge of poesy as a pro- 
per ornament of youth, 1 would not be understood as 
though I recommended verse making to every young 
gentleman and lady. It is an old proverb, that poets 



OF THE MIND. 311 

are boni, and not made. And though I have been too 
far betrayed, by an unguarded inclination, into at- 
tempts of this kind, in some of my former years, yet, 
while I sometimes repent of bavini^ laid out so many 
days and hours of a short life in writing verses, I will 
not encourage others to practice it, unless they are blest 
with a brighter genius, and find an insuperable bent and " 
bias of soul that way ; and even then let it be a diver- 
sion, and not a business. 

The thing, therefore, which I here recommend to 
persons of a polite education, is some acquaintance 
with good verse. To read it in the best authors, to 
learn to know, and taste, and feel a fine stanza, as well 
as hear it, and to treasure up at>me of the richest 
sentiments and expressions of the most admired wri- 
ters is all that I mean in this advice. 

Nor is this a mere amusement or useless embroidery 
of the mind: It brightens and animates the fancy witri 
a thousand beautiful images : itenriches the soul with 
many great and sublime sentiments and refined ideas ; 
it fills the memory with a noble variety of language, 
and furnishes the tongue with speech and expression 
suited to every subject. It teaches the art of describing 
well, and of painting every thing to the life, and dress- 
ing up all the pleasmg and the frightful scenes of na- 
ture and providence, vice and virtue, in their proper 
charms and horrors. It assists us in the art of persua- 
sion ; it leads us into a pathetic manner of speech and 
w^riting, and adds life and beauty to conversation. 

Howoften have we been enabled to gild a gloomy hour 
of life, and to soften a rough and painful occurrence, by 
meditating and repeating the lines of some great poet ? 
Between the colours and the harmony that belong to 
verse, our senses and our souls are sometimes sweetly 
entertained in a solitary retirement ; and sometimes Ave 
entertain our friends agreeably, we regale them as with 
music and painting at once, and gladden the whole 
company. 

But poetry hath still some sublimer powers. It 
raisesour dying religion to a heavenly degree,andkindles 
a flame of holy love and joy in the heart. If the memory 
be well stored with devout songs, we shall never be at 
loss for diviae meditation j we may exalt the praises 



.il£ IMPROVEMErS^T 

of God and our Saviour at all times, and feel our souls 
borne up as on the Avings of angels, fiir above this 
dusky globe of earth, till we have lost all its flattering 
vanities and its painful vexations. Poesy was first 
designed for the service of religion, and dedicated to 
the temple. Moses and David made divine and illustri- 
luis use of it. The royal psalmist is raised on the 
"wings of inspiration and sacred verse, far above the 
level of the Jewish ceremonies and shadows, and con- 
verses with heavenly things, and sheds abroad the glo- 
ries of the future Messiah, amidst the raptures of his 
sublime and inimitable poesy. 

But it is time to descend and mention somfe of the ac- 
complishments of animal nature. The first of this kind 
and perhaps the nearest to poesy is the art of singing. A 
most charming gift of the God of nature, and designed 
for the solace of our sorrows and the improvement of 
our joys. Those young persons w ho are blest with a 
musical ear and voice, should have some instruction 
bestowed on them, that they may acquire this delight- 
ful skill. I am sorry that the' greatest part of our 
songs, whereby young gentlemen and ladies are taught 
to practice this art, are of the amorous kind, and some 
of them polluted too. Will no happy genius lend a 
helping hand to rescue music from all its defilements, 
and to furnish the tongue with a nobler and more refi- 
ned melody ? But singing must not be named alone. 

Various harmony both of the wind and string were 
once in use in divine worship, and that by divine ap-^ 
pointment. It is certain then that the use of these 
instruments in common life is no unlawful practice, 
though the New Testament has not ordained the use 
of it in evangelical worship. But if the voice be 
happily capable of this art, it is preferable to all instru- 
ments fashioned and composed by man; this is an or- 
gan formed and tuned by God himself. It is most 
easily kept in exercise, the skill is retained longest, and 
the pleasure transcends all the rest. Where an ode of 
Doble and seraphic composure is set throughout to music, 
and sung bj' an artful voice, while the spirit at the same 
time enjoys a devout temper, the joys of the soul and 
the sense are unitr.d, and it approaches to the scriptural 
ideas of the celestial state. Happy the youth wh?« 



OP THE MIND. 31S 

kas a bright and harmonious constitution, with a pious 
turn of soul, a cheerful spirit and a relish of sacred 
melod)' ! He takes a frequent flight above this lower 
world, beyond the regions of sense and time ; he joins 
the concert of the heavenly inhabitants, and seems to 
anticipate the business and the blessedness of eternity. 

Shall I be allowed after this to mention drawing and 
painting as. agreeable amusements for polite youth ? 
"Where the genius leads that way, it is a noble diversion, 
and improves the mind. Nature has her share in this, 
as well as in poesy ; where nature inclines, let polite 
vouth be taught to sketch a little on paper; let them 
have at least some taste of these arts, some capacity of 
being pleased with a curious draught, a noble paintmg,. 
an elegant statue, and fine resemblances of nature. 
This is an ingenious and a graceful acqiiirement. Mr. 
Richardson's Essay on the Theory of Painting, is the 
best book that [ know on that subject, and suratient to 
give a young gentleman a general knowledge of the art. 

Shall I now name the art of fencing, and of riding the 
managed horse, as an accomplishment for gentlemen ? 
These are exercises of a healthy kind, and may be 
useful in life. Shall I speak of dancing, as a modish 
accomplishment of both sexes ? I confess I know n© 
evil in it. This also is a healthful exercise, and it gives 
young persons a decent manner of appearance in com- 
pany. It may be profitable to some good purposes, if 
jt be well guarded against all the abuses and tempta- 
tions that ma^ attend it. It was used of old in sacred 
and civil rejoicings, 1 Sam. xviii. 6. 2 Sam.vi. 14. Exod. 
XV. "20, 21 . It is certainly an advantage to have the body 
formed early to graceful motion, to which theart of dan- 
cing may have contributed. But where it is much belov- 
ed and indulged, it has most sensible dangers, especially 
mixed dancing. It leads youth too often and too early 
mto company ; it may create too much forwardness 
and assurance in the sex whose chief glory is their 
modesty ; it may kindle vain and vicious inclinations, 
and raise in young minds too great a fondness for the 
excessive gaieties and licentious pleasures of the age.. 
In all these aflfairs a wise parent will keep a v/atchful 
eye upon the child, while he indulges it in these grati- 
fications of youth and inclination i a wise pturent will 
D d 



S14 IMPROVEMENT 

daily observe whether the son, or the little daughter 
begin to be too much charmed with any of the gay 
ornaments and amusements of life ; and with a prudent 
and sacred solicitude, will take care lest any of them 
intrench on the more necessary, and more important 
duties of life and religion. And according to this view 
of things, the parent's hand will either give a looser 
reign to the pursuit of these exercises ; or will manage 
the propensities of the child with a needful and becom- 
ing restraint. 

But among all the accomplishments of youth, there 
is none preferable to a decent and agreeable behaviour 
among men, a modest freedom of speech, a soft and 
elegant manner of address, a graceful and lovely de- 
portment, a cheerful gravity and good humour, with a 
mind appearing ever serene under the ruffling acci- 
dents of human life ; add to this a pleasing solemnity 
and reverence when the discourse turns upon any thing 
sacred and divine, a becoming neglect of injuries, a 
hatred of calumny and slander, a habit of speaking 
well of others, a pleasing benevolence and readiness to 
do good to mankind, and special compassion to the 
miserable ; with an air and countenance, in a natural 
and unaffected manner, expressive of all these excel- 
lent qualifications. 

Some of these, I own, are to be numbered among 
the duties and virtues, rather than among the orna- 
ments of mankind ; but they must be confessed to be 
ornaments as well as virtues. They are graces in the 
eyes of man as well as of God. These will be- 
speak the affection of all that know us, and engage even 
an ill natured world betimes in our favour. These 
will enable the youth of both sexes, who are so 
happy as to attain them, to enter upon the stage of 
life with approbation and love, to pass through the world 
with ease, as far as ease may be expected in so degen- 
erate and unhappy a state of things ; to finish the 
scenes of action on earth with applause, and to leave 
behind them the monument of a ^ood name, when 
their bodies sleep in the dust, and their souls dwell with 
God. 



OF THE MIND. S15 

SECTION VIII. 

i^ Guard against evil Infiuences from Persons and 
Things. 

XT belongs also to a good education, that children be 
guarded and secured, as far as possible, from all evil 
influences and unhappy impressions, which they may 
be exposed to receive both from persons and thinjjs. I 
shall sufficiently explain this direction by particular 
instances. 

Let not nurses or servants be suffered to fill their 
minds with siily tales, and with senseless rhymes, many 
of which are so absurd and ridiculous, that they will not 
bear to be represented in a grave discourse. Tne imagi- 
nation of young creatures is hereby flattered and deceiv- 
ed ; their reason is grossly abused and imposed upon ; 
and by this means they are trained up to be amused 
with follies and nonsense, rather than to exercise 
their understanding, which is the glory of human 
nature. 

Let not any persons that are near them terrify their 
tender minds with dismal stories of witches and ghosts, 
of devils and evil spirits, or faries and bugbears in the 
dark. This hath had a most mischievous effect on 
some children, and hath fixed in their constitutions such 
a rooted slavery and fear, that they have scarcely dared 
to be left alone all their lives, especially in the night. 
These stories have made such a deep and frightful im- 
pression on their tender fancies, that it hath enervated 
their souls, it hath broken their spirits early, it hath 
grown up with them and mingled with their religion, 
it hath laid a w^-etched foundation for melancholy and 
distracting sorrows. Let these sort of informations be 
reserved for their firmer years, and let them not be told 
in their hearing, till they can better judge what truth or 
reality there is in th^m, and be made sensible how 
much is owing to romance and fiction. 

Nor let their little hearts be frightened at three or 
four years old with shocking and bloody histories, with 
massacres and martyrdoms, with cuttings and burnings, 
"with the images of horrible and barbarous murders, 



516 IMPROVEMENT 

with racks and redhot pincers, with engines of torment 
and cruelty, with manghd limbs, and carcases drenched 
in gore. It is time enough, when tlieir spirits are grown 
a little firmer, to acquaint them with these madnesses 
and miseries of human nature. There is no need that 
the history of the holy confessors and martyrs should 
be set before their thoughts so early, in all their most 
ghastly shapes and colours. These things, when they 
are a little older, may be of excellent use to discover 
to them the wicked and bloody principles of perse- 
cution, both among the heathens and the papists ; and 
to teach them the power of the grace of Christ, in 
supporting these poor sufferers under all the torments 
which they sustained for the love of God and the truth. 
Let their ears be ever kept from all immodest stories, 
and from wanton songs ; from riddles and puns with 
double meanings and foul intentions; let them not be 
suffered to read wanton jests or amorous romances ; 
and due care should be taken to remove all books out 
of their way that may defile their imagination, orteach 
them the language, or the sentiments of impurity, 
Nor let their eyes be entertained with lewd and un- 
clean pictures, and images of thintr;s or actions that 
are not fit to be exposed. These things indeed have 
too often an unhappy influence to corrupt the fancy 
and tne manners ; antl in liper ye irs have been the oc- 
casion of numberless mischiefs ; but especially they 
should be kept faraway from the sight and heiring 
of children, lest too deep and dangerous impcesisions 
be made m tliose early years of life. Noihi.ig 
but what is chaste, pure, 'and innocent, should come 
within the reach of their eyes and ears. Even the 
common necessities and actions of nature, should 
be always expressed before them in the most modest 
forms of speech that our mother tongue can furnish us 
with. In this respect, as the po*^t says, children should 
be treated with great reverence. 

Maxima debelur pueris revereniia. 

It is confessed that hooks of anatomy, and other 
parts of necessary science, are proper ti> be written ; 
and these may be consulted by persons who are grown 
up to a due age, especially by those whose profi^ssion re- 



OF THE MIND. 517 

i^uires it. There is also some necessity of foul narra- 
tives, where foul crimes are committed, and ought to 
be publicly exposed and brought to justice and punish- 
ment. As the affairs of mankind stand, these things 
cannot always be avoided ; but there is no manner of 
necessity that children should read them, or rash 
unguarded youth. 

For some of the reasons before mentioned, there 
should be a wise conduct in showing children what 
parts of the bible they should read ; for though the 
wordof God expresseth all things with due decency, yet 
there are some things, which have been found necessary 
to be spoken of in scripture, both in the laws of Mo- 
ses, and in the representation of the wickedness of the 
Gentiles, in the New Testament, in which adult persons 
have been concerned, which there is no necessity for 
children to read or hear, and they may be passed over 
or omitted among them. The Jews were wont to with- 
hold Solomon's Songs from their children till they 
were thirty years old ; and the late pious and prudent 
bishop Tillotson, in a manuscript which I have seen, 
wishes that those parts of the bible, wherein there are 
some of the affairs of mankind expressed too naturally, 
as he calls it, were omitted in the public lessons of the 
church : I think they may as well be excepted also out 
of the common lessons of children, and out of the daily 
course of reading in famil}'^ worship. 

Let parents take as much care as they can in the 
choice of companions and playfellows for their sons 
and daughters. It would be a happy thing if children, 
who are bred up in schools, could be secured from the 
company and evil influence of other children, who 
curse and swear, who take the name of God in vain, 
and use filthy and unclean language. Masters and 
mistresses should be very watchful and strict in their 
inquiries into the behaviour of their scholars of both 
sexes when they are out of their sight, that if it were 
possible, there might not be one among them whose lips 
are impure or profane ; for one diseased sheep may 
infect the whole flock. However, where children 
find such immorality practised by any of tiieir fel- 
lows, they should be taught to show their utmost ab- 
horrence of it, and speedily forsake such pernicious 
company. 

D d 2 



I^li IMPROVEMENT 



SECTION IX. 

A Guard set on the Sports and Diversions of Chit- 
dren. 

As parents should take care to have their children 
employed in proper learning and business, so they 
should not think it beneath them to concern themselves 
a little about their sports and recreations. Human na- 
ture, especially in younger years cannot be constantly 
kept intent on work, learning or labour. There must 
be some intervals of pleasure to give a loose to the 
mind, and to refresh the natural spirits. Too long 
and intense confinement to one thing is ready to 
overtire the spirits of youth, and to weaken the springs 
of activity by excessive fatigue. It is an old simile on 
this occasion, and a very just one, that a bow kept al- 
ways bent will grow feeble and lose its force. The al- 
ternate successions of business and diversion, preserve 
the body and soul of children in the happiest temper; 
and learning is more closely pursued, and work better 
done, after some agreeable relaxations. The young 
creatures apply themselves to their business with 
new vigour after the enjo5'^ment of some pleasurable re- 
lease. 

I confess, it would be of considerable advantage, if 
the various parts of learning and business in which 
children are employed, were so happily contrived, that 
one might be, as it were, a relaxation or diversion, when 
the mind is tired with the other ; and if children have 
a taste and relish of reading and improvement of the 
mind, there is a rich variety of entertainment to be 
found in books of poetry, history, accounts of the 
wonders of art and nature, as well as ingenious practi- 
ces in mechanical and mathematical affairs. It is hap- 
piest indeed, where this relish is the gift of nature; yet 
children may be trained up, by wise and alluring me- 
thods, to delight in knowledge, and to choose such sort 
of recreations, especially in winter nights and rainy sea- 
sons, when they cannot enjoy the more active diver- 
sions abroad. Yet besides these; some other sorts of 



OF THE MIND. SIS 

sports will generally be found necessary for children of 
almost all dispositions. 

And their sports ought to be such as are in some 
measure chosen by themselves, that they may be mat- 
ter of delight ; yet still under the regulation of the 
eye and prudence of a parent. No sort of play should 
be permitted, wherein sacred things become a matter 
of jest or merriment. No sport should be indulged 
wherein foul language, ill names, or scandal are practi- 
sed ; wherein there is any violation of modesty, or of 
the rules of decency and cleanliness. Nothing must be 
suflered wherein there is any breach of the moral pre- 
cepts of the law of God ; wherein cozening or cheating, 
falsehood or lying, are practised or allowed. They 
should be conhned to honesty, justice, truth and goodr 
ness, even in their very play. 

They should not be permitted to use such sporting 
as^may tend to discompose their spirits, disorder their 
nature, injure their flesh, prejudice their health, break 
their limbs, or do mishief to themselves, or each other. 
This should rather be the play of dogs, or horses, thaa 
of children. 

Nor should they ever be allow^ed to practice those 
diversions that carry an idea of barbarity and cruelty in 
them, though it be but to brute creatures, they should 
not set up cocks to be banged with cudgels thrown at 
them about Shrove tide ; nor delight in giving a tedious 
lingering death to a young litter of dogs or cats, that 
may be appointed to be destroyed or drowned, lest 
they multiply too much in a house, nor should they 
take pleasure in pricking, cutting or mangling young 
birds which thej^ have caught, nor using any savage 
and bloody practices, towards any creatures whatsoev- 
er, lest their hearts grow hard and unrelenting, and 
they learn in time to practise these cruelties on their 
own kind, and to murder and torture their fellow mor- 
tals, or at least to be indifferent to their pain and distress, 
so as to occasion it without remorse. 

They should never be suffered to game for money, 
nor even for their own toys or play things, if they are 
costly and expensive : many sore inconveniences in 
riper years arige from such indulgencies. And indeed no 



sm IMPROVEMENT 

recreations should be accounted lawfu], but those in 
which they can with courage recommend themselves 
to Gud and desire his blessing upon them. 

Those children who are kept pretty close to learning 
in a school, should be directed to pursue their recrea- 
tions, as much as may be, in the open air ; and to exer- 
cise their limbs with vigour ana activity, that their 
growth and health may not be impaired by study, and 
too much confinement to a book. But in very foul 
weather, or in long winter evenings, as I hinted before, 
they may be taught to seek such diversions as may at 
once refresh and improve their minds. 

For want of this in some families, the game of 
drawghts and chess are practised, and some other little 
sports upon a chess board, without any stakes or aim at 
gain, beyond the mere pleasure of victory. In other 
houses cards and dice are introduced, for want of better 
recreations. The former of these, namely, draughts 
and chess, are innocent enough, and may wear off a 
heavy hour, when the mind or body are unfit for busi- 
ness ; the latter have had the general censure of our 
wise and pious fathers, and there have been most unhap- 
py effects attending them ; and indeed, these games are 
seldom used without depositing too much money at 
the stake ; and this tends to engage the passions with 
greater vehemence than the nature of a recreation 
can require, or should admit. But I leave it to those 
who are more skilful in casuistic divinity, to prove 
them absolutely unlawful in the very nature of the 
game. 

However that be, I have often earnestly wished, that 
instead of these games, there were some more profita- 
ble sports invented for a long evening, for a dull hour, or 
a rainy season ; and I am well assured, that if some in- 
genious mind, which is well skilled in mathematical 
learning and in games, would but take pains to contrive 
some such diversions, there might be a much better 
account given of the hours of leisure and remission of 
business by persons of both sexes, and of all ages, than 
can be at present, for want of such useful and improv- 
ing recreations. 

What if cards and dice should be proved to be ever 
so lawful in themselves, yet there might be various in- 



OF THE MIND. 521 

ventions, of much more advantage to knowledge and 
virtui^, placed in the room of them. May not some lit- 
tle tablets of pasteboard be made, in imitation of 
cards, which might teach the unlearned several parts 
of grammar, philosophy, geometry, geography, astron- 
omy, kc. 

What if on one side of these tablets or charts, a 
town or city were named and described, and on the 
other side, the country, province and kingdom where 
that town stands, with some geographical or historical 
remark on it ; and whosoever in play draws the chart 
with the town on it, should be obliged to tell the coun* 
try where it stands, and the remark on it ? 

What if on one side were a geometrical figure, and oi^ 
the other the demonstration of some property belong- 
ing to it ? 

What if one side bore the name or figure of any 
piece of money, and the other all the multiplies of it 
oy the nine digits, or as far as twelve ? This would be 
useful for children brought up to a trade? 

What if the figure of some plant, animal, engine or 
any thing else in the worl i of nature or art, were print- 
ed on one side, and on the name of the thing, 
which should be required to be spelt right by yojung 
scholars when they see the figure, in order to teach 
them the art of spelling. And if to this were added 
some beautiful expression or description of the thing, 
taken out of our best English poets, to be repeated 
by him who draws the chart which has the ligure 
oifi it ? 

Or if on one side were a word in English, and on the 
other the same thing expressed in Latin, Greek, or 
French, for such who learn those languages? 

Or if single names of famous men and women were 
on one side, and the reverse contained the history, or 
some short account of those persons whose names 
were so famous ? 

What if in a sheet of paper or a two penny book, 
were written a hundred proverbs or wise sayings, col- 
lected out of moralists, ancient and modern, relating to 
all the virtues and vices ; and a collection of the most 
eminent examples of these virtues and vices were su- 
peradded ; and if one or more solid bodies of wood, 



S2£ IMPROVEMENT 

of sixteen, twenty or thirty two flat sides were formed, 
with the name of one virtue or vica inscribed on each 
side ; and by the rolling of this many sided toy, the 
uppermost word or name should be an'indication what 
proverb or what example to require ? 

There have been I confess, several sorts of cards in- 
vented with proverbs, with various learned figures and 
mathematical devices upon them ; but, as far as 1 can 
learn, these have been but mere pictures and ornaments 
to thp hearts and diamonds ; these learned devices and 
figures have had no share in the game ; the cards are 
used like common cards still, without any manner of 
improvement of any of the gamesters in these sciences. 
But Avhat I propose is a contrivance to render these 
words or figures, or sentences, the very implements or 
engines of the sport itself, without so much as the form 
of any spade, or club, or heart, or diamond drawn upon 
the chart or tablet. 

Some of these exercises and diversions, if happily 
contrived, may not only be fit to entertain children in 
their younger years, but may usefully amuse them 
whet) they are grown up toward manly age. 

For my part 1 own myself to be so much unskilled 
in the various games used among us, that I am not fit 
to contrive, nor capable of inventing such useful pas- 
time. But 1 wish some of the sons of ingenuity had 
science and virtue so much at heart, as to attempt such 
a service to mankind. And parents should seek some 
sort of delightful employments or recreations for the 
leisure hours of their sons and their daughters, 
when they are in the stage of 5-outh, that they may 
be the more easily withheld from those diversions of 
the present age which are so fashionable and yet so 
dangerous. 

Among these dangerous and modish diversions, I 
cannot forbear to mention midnight assemblies, play- 
houses, gaming tables, and masquerades. Let parents 
who would willingly see their children walking in the 
paths of piety and virtue, endeavour to guard their in- 
clinations from these enticing amusements. The reli- 
gion and conscience of many a well inclined youth 
have been exposed to greatand imminent danger among 
those scenes of vanity and folly, to say no worse. My 



OF THE MIND. 323 

business is not to rail at them, though some of my 
readers will hardly forgive me that 1 deal with them 
so tenderly, and give them names of so soft a sound. 
But this must be confessed, that if persons of piety 
frequent them, they too much risk their character and 
their innocence, and expose their virtue and, their piety 
to too great and needless temptations ; or at least by 
giving the sanction of their presence at such places, and 
on such occasions, they make themselves accessary to 
the ruin of those who may b6 less fortified against their 
ensnaring tendency. 

Yet some of these diversions and amusements are 
so charming to many a young thoughtless creature, 
that no risk is thought too great to run, if they may 
but please their ears and their eyes, and gratify their 
idle and vain inclinations. Hence these houses of 
pleasure are filled and frequented ; hence the theatres 
are crowded and gaming tables attended by multitudes 
of youths whose parents ^ave enjoyed the blessing of 
a stricter education ; and though their estate can scarce- 
ly support their irregular expense, yet they gratify their 
children in these hazardous recreations, and take no 
pains to cure them of this pernicious folly. 

But the children of our age will pertly reply, " What, 
must we live like nobody ? Must we turn old Puritans 
again ? Must we look like fools in company, where 
there is scarcely any discourse but of plays, operas, 
and masquerades, or cards, dice, and midnight assem- 
blies ? And pray what sin is there in any of them ?" 

To this 1 answer, that 1 am very sorry to find that 
the children of religious parents choose and delight in 
company where these things are the chief subject of 
conversation. I fear, lest God and virtue, and the im- 
portant things of another world are utterly banished 
out of such a visiting room, where these discourses 
are the chief entertainment, and there is little place 
found for any profitable conversation, even about the 
most useful and valuable affairs of this life. 

But, light as these pert questions are, I will consider 
them one after another. lou say first, " Must we look 
like old puritans ? Must we live like nobody ?" No, my 
friends, I am not persuading you to return to the habit 
and guise of your ancestors, nor to transact yourvisists, 



3U IMPROVEMENT 

nor to model your diversions, by the pattern of four- 
score years ago. Tiiere is a certain fasliion and appear- 
ance of things that helong to every age ; modes of con- 
versation and forms of bihaviour art- vmt changing 
in lliis hfe ; and it is no improper thing for persons, 
according to their rank and figure in life, to conform 
themselves to the present customs as far as they arc 
innocent, and have no evil influence upon morality or 
religion. But where any unhappy customs prevail 
in the world thit make an inroad upon your piety, 
that endanger your virtue, that break the good 
order of religious families, and are usually or always 
attended with some mischievous consequences, sure- 
ly in these instances it is better to look like a Puritan 
and stand almost alone, «^han to follow the multitude in 
a road that leads to iniquity and mischief. A Puritan 
or a Separatist from the vain and dangerous courses of 
a vicious world, is to this day a name of lasting glory, 
though the enemies of God and of your ancestors may 
cast It upon them in a way of reproach. There arc 
some thmp in which you must dare to be singular, if 
you wouldi be Christians, and especially in a corrupt 
and degenerate age. A sense of the love of God secu- 
red to your hearts, and an inward peace of conscierjce, 
will infinitely countervail the enmity of the world, and 
overbalance the reproaches of an ungodly generation. 

Besides, if the families that profess religion, and de- 
sire to preserve piety among them, and to transmit it 
down to their children's children, would but heartily ioia 
together, in a resolved abstinence from these hazardous 
diversions, there would be no need of any one of you to 
stand alone, and your appearance on the side of virtue 
would not be singular. Vou might animate and sup- 
port one another with public courage, and having God 
and virtue on your side, you might in some measure 
bear down the eflfrontery and ridicule of an age of vice 
and sensuality ; an age wherein comedies and mas- 
querades, gaming tables and midnight assemblies, are 
become the modish diversions. 

But still it mav be said, what sin is there in any of 
them ? Bear with me then, while I take them in order, 
oneafter another, and briefly give my opinion concer- 
ning each of them» 



OF THE MIND. 325 

1. Let us begin with the playhouse. It is granted 
ihat a dramatic representation of the affairs of human 
life, is by no means sinful in itself: lam inclined to 
think that valuable compositions might be made of this 
kind, such as might entertain a virtuous audience with 
innocent delight, and even with some real profit. Such 
have been written in French, and have in pmes past, 
been acted with applause. But it is too well knowH 
that the comedies which appear on our stage, and most 
of the tragedies too, have no design to set religion or 
virtue in the best light, nor to render vice odious to the 
spectators. In many of them piety makes a ridiculous 
figure and virtue is drest in the habit of folly ; the sacred 
name of God is frequently taken in vain, if not blasphe- 
med ; and the man of flagrant vice is the fine gentleman 
and the poet's favourite, who musti)e rewarded at the 
end of the play. 

Besides, there is nothing will pass in our theatres 
that has not a mixture of some amorous intrigue ; lewd- 
ness itself reigns and riots in some of their scenes ; so- 
briety is put quite out of countenance, and modesty is 
in certain danger there ; the youth of serious religion 
that ventures sometimes into this infected air, finds his 
antidotes too weak to resist the contagion. Th© plea- 
sures of the closet and devout retirement are suspended 
first, and then utterly vanquished by the overpowering 
influence of the last comedy ; the fancy is all over defi- 
led, the vain images rise uppermost in the soul and pol- 
lute the feeble attempts of devotion, till by degrees, 
secret religion is lost and forgotten ; and in a little time 
the play house has got so much the mastery of con- 
science that the young christian goes to bed after the 
evening drama with as much satisfaction and ease as he 
used to do after evening prayer. 

If there have been found two or three plays which 
have been tolerably free from lewd and profane mix^ '■ 
tures, there are some scores or hundreds that have i 
many hateful passages in them, for which no excuse. '-;, 
can be made. And when all the charming powers of i 
poesy and music are joined with the gayest scenes and : 
entertainments, to assault the senses and the soul at \ 
once, and to drive out virtue from the possession of the | 
heart, it is to be feared that it will not long keep its place 
E e 



Si6 IMPROVEMENT 

and power there. What a prophet of their own says 
of a court, may with much more truth and justice Be 
said of the theatre ; 

It is a golden, but a fa til circle, 
Upon whose magic skirts a thousand devils 
in crystal forms sit tempting innocence, 
An9 beckon early virtue from its centre. 

Another of the poets of the town, who made no 
great pretences to virtue, and who well knew the quali- 
ties of the theatre, and its mischievous influence, writes 
thus of it : 

It w*>uld be endless to trace all the vice 

That from the playhouse takes immediate rise, 

It is the unexhausted magazine 

That stocks the land with vanity and sin. 

By flourishing so long, 

Numbers have been undone, both old and young ; 

And many hundred souls are now unblest, 

Which else had died in peace, and found eternal rest. 

As for any of my friends who are not yet convinced 
of th^ justice of these censures, I intreat them to read 
what Mr. Collier, Mr. Bedford, and Mr. Lane have 
written on this subject : And though 1 would by no 
means justify and support every remark they have 
made, yet I think every reader who has a modest and 

KioHs soul, and has the cause of God and virtue near 
is heart, will be a little afraid to give his presence there, 
lest he should seem to encourage such incentives to in- 
iquity and profaneness ; or if he should go thither 
once, merely to see and know what it is, I would per- 
suade myself he will not make it his practice, or fre- 
quent that house of infection. 

But you will say, " There is some advantage to be 
gained by these entertainments ; there is a deal of fine 
language in them, and fashionable airs of conversation; 
there are many of the fooleries of life exposed in the 
theatre, which suit not a more solemn place ; and com- 
edies will teach us to know the world, and to avoid the 
ridicule of the age." 
B«t let my younger frieuds, who arc so willing to im- 



OF THE MIND. Z^t 

prove in their knowledge of the world and politeness 
remember, that whatsoever may be gotten, there is 
much more to be lost among these perilous and enti- 
cing scenes of vanity ; the risk of their virtue and 
serious religion can never be recompenced by the learn- . 
ing a few fine speeches and modish airs, or the correc- VL 
tion of some awkward and unfashionable piece of^ 
behaviour. This is to plunge headlong into the sea, 
that I may wash ofi" a little dirt from my coat, or to 
venture on poison in order to cure a pimple. 

Besides, most or all of these ends might be attained 
by reading some few of the best of them in private ; 
though 1 confess, I am cautious how I recommend this 
practice, because I think that almost all these dramatic 
composures in our age have some dangerous mixtures 
in them. Those volumes of short essays which are 
entitled the Spectator, will give a sufficient knowledge 
«f the ways of the world, and cure us of a hundred 
little follies, without the danger that there is in reading 
of plays ; though even in those very volumes, I could 
heartily wish tnat here and there a leaf were left out, 
wherein the ^vriter speaks too favourably of the stage, 
and now and then, though rarely, introduces a sentence 
that would raise a blush m the face of strict virtue. 

2. The next forbidden diversion is the masquerade. 
By all the descriptions that I haveheai*d of it, it seems 
to be a very low piece of foolery,- fitted for children 
and for persons of a little and trifling geni^s^ who can 
entertain themselves at blind man's buC And as the 
entertainment is much meaner than that of the theatre, 
so it is something more hazardous to virtue and inna- 
cence. It does not so much as pretend to any such im- 
provement of the mind as the theatre professes ; while 
it lays a more dreadful snare to modesty, and has made 
too often a dismal inroad on the morals of those that 
frequent it. Could I but persuade persons to read what 
the Right Reverend the late Lord Bishop of London 
has published in his sermon for the reformation of 
manners, I am ready to think that all those who profess 
virtue would refrain their feet far from it, and not come 
Bear the doors of the house. His words are these : 

" Amongst the various engines contrived by a corrupt 
generation to support vice and profaneness, and keep 



328 IMPROVEMENT 

them in countenance, I must particularly take notice of 
masquerades, as they deprive virtue and religion of their 
last refuge, I mean shame; which keeps multitudes 
of sinners within the bounds of decency, after they 
have broken through all the ties of principle and con- 
science. But this invention sets them free ftom that 
tie also ; being neither better npr worse than an oppor- 
tunity to say and do there, what virtue, decency, and 
good manners will not permit to be said or done in any 
other place. If persons of either sex will frequent 
lewd and profane plays, or openly join themselves to 
loose and atheistical assemblies of any kind, they have 
their reward, they are sure to be marked and branded 
by all good men, as persons of corrupt minds and 
vicious inclinations, who have abandoned religion and 
all pretences to it, and given themselves over to luxury 
and profaneness. And as bad as the world* is, this is a 
very heavy load upon the characters of men ; and in 
spite of all the endeavours of vice to bear up and keep 
itself in countenance, it sinks them by degrees, into 
infamy and contempt. But this pernicious invention 
intrenches vice and profaneness against all the assaults 
and impressions of shame; ana whatever lewdness 
may be concerted, whatever luxury, immodesty, or 
extravagance may be committed in word or deed, no 
one's reputation is at stake, no one's character is respon- 
sible for it. A circumstance of such terrible conse- 
quence to virtue and good manners, that if masquer- 
ades shall ever be revived, as Ave heartily hope they 
will not, all serious christians within these two great and 
popuioup cities will be nearly concerned to lay it to 
heart, and diligently bestir themselves in cautioning 
their friends and neighbours against such fatal snares. 
Particularly all who have the government and education 
of youth, ought to take the greatest care to keep them 
out of tne way of this dangerous temptation, and then 
to labour against the spreading of it. 

" I cannot forbear to add, that all religious consider- 
ations apart, this is a diversion that no true Englishman 
ought to be fond of, when he remembers, that it was 
brought in among us by an ambassador of a neighbour- 
ing nation in the last reign, while his master was in 
measures to enslave us ; and indeed there is not a moi?c 



OF THE MINO. M^ 

effectual way to enslave a people, than first to dispirit 
and enfeeble them by licentiousness and efFeminacy." 
Thus far the right reverend author, whose zeal for the 
suppression of all these tempting machineries has been 
so conspicuous and honourable. 

3. The third place of dangerous resort is the gamings 
table. Many young gentlemen have been there bub-^ 
bled and cheated of large sums of money, which were 
given them by their parents to support them honoura- 
bly in their stations. In such sort of shops, young 
ladies are tempted to squander away too lar^e a share 
of their yearly allowance, if not of the provision which 
their parents have made for their whole lives. It is a 
fatal snare to both sexes ; if they win, they are allured 
still onward, while, according to their language, luck 
runs on their side ; if they loose, they are tempted to 
another and another cast of the die, and enticed on still 
to fresh games, by a delusive hope that fortune will 
turn, aad they shall recover all that they have lost, lu 
the midst of these scenes their passions rise shame- 
fully, a greedy desire of gain makes them warm and 
eciger, and new losses plunge them sometimes into 
vexation and fury, till the soul is quite beat off from its 
guard, and virtue and reason have no manner of com- 
mand over them. 

My worthy friend Mr. Neal, in his reformation 
sermon, has taken occasion not only to inform us, that . 
merchants and tradesmen mix themselves at these 
tables with men of desperate fortunes, and throw the 
dice for their estates ; but in a very decent and soft 
manner of address, he has inquired whether public 
gaming in virtuous ladies be not a little out of character r 
Whether it does not draw them into mixed company, 
and give them an air of boldness, which is perfectly in- 
consistent with that modesty which is the ornament of 
the fair sex ? Whether it does not engage them in an 
habit of idleness and of keeping ill hours ? Whether 
their passions are not sometimes disordered ? And 
whether the losses they sustain have not a tendency to 
breed ill blood in their families and between their near- 
est relations ? It has been often observed, that " gaming 
in a lady has usually been attended with loss of repu- 
tation, and sometimes of that which is still more valua- 
E e 2 



830 IMPROVEMENT 

ble, her virtue and honour." Thus far proceeds this 
useful sermon. 

JNow, if these be the dismal and frequent consequen- 
ces of the gamiog tables, the loss of a little money is 
one of the least injuries you sustain by it. But what 
if you should still come off gainers ? Is this the way 
that God has taught or allowed us to procure the ne- 
cessary comforts of life ? Is this a sort of labour or 
traffic on which you can ask the blessing of heaven ? 
Can you lift up your face to God, and pray that he 
woulH succeed the cast of the die, the drawing of the 
lot, or the dealing out of the cards, so as to mcrease 
your gain, while it is the very sense and language of 
the prayer that your neighbour may sustain so much 
loss ? This is a sad and guilty circumstance which 
belongs to gaming, that one can gain nothing but what 
another loses ; and consequently we cannot ask a bles- 
sing upon ourselves, but at the same time we pray for a 
blast upon our neighbour. 

Will you hope to excuse it by saying, that ray neigh- 
bour consents to this blast, or this loss, by entering into 
the game, and there is no injury where there is consent ? 
I answer, that though he consents to lose condition- 
ally, and upon a venturous hope of gain, yet he is not 
willing to sustain the loss absolutely ; but when either 
chance or his neighbour's skill in the game has deter- 
. miued against him, then he is consti'ained to lose and 
does it unwillingly, so that he still sustains it as a loss, 
or misfortune, or evil. Now if you ask a blessing from 
heaven on this way of your gettirig money you ask rather 
absolutely that your neighbour may sustain a loss, with- 
out any regard to the condition of his hope of gain. 

Your wish and prayer is directly that you may get, 
and he may lose ; you cannot wish this good to your- 
self, but you wish the contrary evil to him : and there- 
fore 1 think gaming for gain cannot be consistent with 
the laws of Christ, which certainly forbid us to wish evil 
to our neighbour. 

And if you cannot so much as in thought ask God's 
blessing on this, as you certainly may on such recrea- 
tions as have an evident tendency innocently to exer- 
cise the body, and relax the mind, it seems your con- 
science secretly condems it, and there is an additional 
proof of its bejDg evil to you. 



OF THE MIND. 331 

All the justest writers of morality, and the best cas- 
liists, have generally, if not universally, determined 
against these methods of gain. Whatsoever game may 
be indulged as lawful, it is still a recreation, and not as 
a calling or business of life ; and therefore no larger 
sums ought to be risked or ventured in this manner, than 
what may be lawfully laid out by any persons for their 
present recreation, according to their different circum- 
stances in the world. 

Besides all this, think of the loss of time, and the waste 
of life that is continually made by some who frequent 
these gaming places. Think how it calls away many 
a youth from their proper buisness, and tempts them 
to throw away what is not their own, and to risk the 
substance as well as the displeasure of their parents or 
their master, at all the uncertain hazards of a dice box. 
ReaH the pages which Mr. Neal has employed on this 
theme, in the sermon just now cited ; read Avhat Mr, 
Dorrin^ton has written several years ago, on this subject 
of gaming ; I wish such discourses were fresh in print, 
and put into the hands of every one who lies under 
this temptation. 

4. The midnight assemblies are the last which I shall 
mention of those modish and hazardous diversions, 
wherein youth are drawn away to too much vanity, 
and plunged into the sensual gaieties of life ; and that at 
those hours, part of which should be devoted to the 
jreligion of the family, or the closet, and partly to the 
•nightly repose of nature. It is acknowledged to be pro- 
per and needful that young people should be indulged 
jn some recreations, agreeable to their age and suitable 
to the condition in which Providence has placed them. 
But I would ask, whether the great and only valuable 
end of recreation is to be expected from these midnight 
-assemblies, namely to relieve us from the fatigues of hfe, 
.andtoexhlleratethespirits, so as thereby to fit us for 
the duties of life and religion ? Now are these the pro- 
per means to fit us for the duties of either kind ? Per- 
haps it will*be said, that dancing which is practised in 
those assemblies, is an exercise conducive to health, and 
therefore a means of fitting us for the duties of life. 
But may not the unseasonableness of the midnight hour 



332 IMPROVEMENT 

prevent and overbalance the benefit that might other- 
■wise be supposed to arise from the exercise ? Is it likely 
that natural health should be promoted or preserved,, 
by changing the seasons and order of nature, and by 
alloting th«>se hours to exercise which God and nature 
have ordained to rest ? Is the returning home after five 
or six hours dancing, through the cold and damp of the 
midnight air, a proper means of preserving health ? Or 
rather is it not more likely to impair and destroy it ? 
Have not these fatal effects been too often felt? Have 
there not been sacrifices of human life offered to this 
midnight idol ? Have there been no fair young martyrs 
to this unseasonable folly ? Are there not some of its 
slaves who are become feeble, labouring under sore dis- 
eases, and some of them fallen asleep in death? Have 
not their music and their dancing, instead of natural rest 
in their beds, brought them down to a long silence in 
the grave and an untimely rest in a bed of dust ? Those 
amiable pieces of human nature, w^ho were lately the 
joy and hope of their too indulgent parents, are now the 
bitterness of their hearts ; and those very exercises from 
whence they hoped the continuance of their joy, as the 
supposed means of confirming their children's health, 
are become an everlasting spring of their mourning. 

And as those midnight recreations are badly suited 
to fit us for the duties of the civil life, so they are worse 
suited to fit us for, or rather, they are more apparently 
opposite to the duties of religion. The religion of the 
closet is neglected, the beautiful regularity and order of 
the family is broken ; and when the night has been tur- 
ned into day, a good part of the next day is lu ned into 
night, while the duties of the morning, both to God and 
man, are unperformed. Those who have frequented 
these assemblies know all this, and are my witnesses to 
the truth of it. Nay, the very practice itself at those 
unseasonable hours, tells all the world how much they 
prefer these dangerous amusements to the worship- ©f 
God in the evening and in the morning, ai^d to all the 
conveniencies and decorum of family government. Be- 
sides, if I speak to christians, have you not found that the 
indul^enceof this sort of diversions, which are usually 
practised in those unseasonable assemblies, leads the 
mind away insensibly from God and religion, gives a van- 



6¥ 'THE MIND. 555 

ity to the spirit, and greatly abates the spiritual and hea- 
venly temper which sliould belong to Christians ? Hath 
it not taken away the savour of godliness and tincture of 
piety from some younger minds ? And do elder Chris- 
tians never suffer by it ? Let it be further considered 
what sort of company you mingle with at those midnight 
assemblies. Are they most frequented by the wise and 
pious, or by the more vain and vicious part of mankind ? 
Do they tend to fill your mind with the most improving 
notions, and your ears and your lips with the most prop- 
er conversation ? Do you that frequent them never find 
your piety in danger there? Does strict religion and 
prayer relish so well with you afterthose gaudy nights of , 
mirth and folly ? And do you then , when you join in those 
assemblies, practice the commands of God, to abstain 
from all appearance of evil and to shun the paths of 
temptation ? Can you pray for a blessing on your attend- 
ace on these midnight meetings? Or can you hope to 
run into the midst of those sparks and living coals, and 
yet not be burned, nor so much as have your garments 
singed ? Are riot parents very generally sensible, that 
there are dangerous snares to youth in those gay diver- 
sions ? And therefore the mother will herself go along 
with her young offspring, to take caie of them and to 
watch over them ; and perhaps there is scarcely any 
place or time which more wants the watchful eye of a 
superior. But here let me ask, is this all the reason why 
the mother attends those scenes of vanity ? Has she no 
relish for them herself? Has she no gay humours of her 
own to be gratified, which she disguises, and covers 
with the pretence of parental solicitude for the virtue 
and honour of her offspring ? Are there no mothers 
who freely lead their children into those perilous places, 
where soul and body are in danger, and are really their 
tempters, under a colour of being their guardians? 

You will plead perhaps, that some of these things arc 
proper for the improvement of young people in good 
oreeding and politeness. They must be brought into 
company to see the world and to learn how to behave 
with becoming decency. Well, suppose these assem- 
blies to be academies of politeness, and that young peo- 
ple attend there upon lecturesof good breeding. Isthere 
no other time so fit as midnight to polish the youth of 



334 IMPROVEMENT 

both sexes and to breed them well ? May not an hour 
or two be appointed at more proper seasons by select 
companies, tor mutual conversation and innocent de- 
light ? Can there be no genteel recreations enjoyed, no 
lessons of behaviour taught by day light ? Can no meth- 
od of improvement in good breeding be contrived and 
appointed, which shall be more secure from temptations 
and inconveniences ? Are there none which are more 
harmless, more innocent, of better reputation among 
persons of strict piety, and which make less inroads on 
the duties of life, both solitary and social, civil and 
religious. 

Shall I inquire once more, What is done at many of 
those midnight assemblies before the dance is begun, or 
when it is ended, and what is the entertainment of those 
who are not engaged in dancing ? Are they not active 
in gaming? Are not cards the business of the hour? Are 
not children educated by these means in the love of ga- 
ming ? And do they not hereby get such a relish of it 
as proves afterwards pt^rnicious to them? Now if ga- 
ming be not a practice fit to be encouraged, what en- 
couragement do those assemblies deserve where gaming 
is one of the chief diversions or bu -ine s ? 

But it is time to put an end lo this sort of discourse. 
I beg pardon of my readers lor having drawn it out to 
so great a length ; for I have said too much on this sub- 
ject for those who have no inclination to these criminal 
and dangerous diversions ; and wish I may have said 
enough to do good to those who have. 

Upon the whole, 1 conclude, it is the duty of parents 
who would give their children a good education, to see 
to it, that children in their younger years do not indulge 
such recreations as may spoil all the good effects of the 
pious instructions, the prayers and care of their parents. 
Otherwise, if you encourage them in such recreations, 
you are building; up these vanities of mind, and those 
vicious inclinations, with one hand, which you labour 
to prevent or to destroy with the othejr. 



OP THE MINIX SS3' 



SECTION X. 



Of the Proper De^ees of Liberty and restraint in the 
Education oj a Son, illustrated by Example, 

oO weak and unhappy is human nature that it is ever 
ready to run into extremes; and when we wbuld reeover 
ourselves from an excess on the right hand, we know 
not where to stop till we are got to an excess on the 
left. Instances of this kind are innumerable in all the 
afiFairs of human life ; but it is hardly more remarkable 
in any thing than in the strict and severe education of 
our fathers a century ago, and in the most profuse 
and unlimited liberty that is indulged to children in our 
age. 

In those days the sons were bred up to learning by 
terrible discipline ; every Greek and Latin author they 
conversed with was attended with one or many new 
scourges, to drive them into acquaintance with him, 
and not the least misdemeanor in life could escape the 
lash, as though the father would prove his daily love to 
his son by never sparing his rod : Prov. xiii. 24. Now 
a daysyounginaster must be treated with afoolish fond- 
ness, till he is grown to the size of man ; and let his 
faults be ever so heinous, and his obstinacy ever so great, 
yet the preceptor must not let him hear the name of 
the rod, lest the child should be frightened or hurt ; 
the advice of the wisest of men is utterly forgotten 
when he tells us, that " Due eon'tdion shall drive out 
the folly that is bound up in the heart of a child ;" Prov. 
xxii. 15. Or else they boldly reverse his divine council, 
Prov. xiii. 24, as though they would make the rule of 
their practice, a direct contradiction to the words of 
Solomon, namely. He that spareth the rodloveth his son, 
but he that hateth him chastens him betimes. 

In that day many children were kept in a most ser- 
vile subjection, and not suffered to sit down, or to speak, 
in the presence of their father, till they were come to 



S36 IMPROVEMENT 

the age of one and twenty. The least degree of frec- 
doni wasesteeoied a bold presumption, and incurred a 
sharp reproof. J\ow they are made familiar compan- 
ions to their parents, almost from the very nursery ; 
and therefore they will hardly bear a check or a reproof 
at their hand. 

In the beginning of the last century, and so onward 
to the middle of it, the children were usually obliged 
to believe what their parents and their masters taught 
them, whether they were principles of science or arti- 
cles of faith and practice ; they were tied down almost 
every punctilio, as though it were necessary to salvation ; 
they were not suffered to examine or inquire whether 
their teachers were in the right, and scarcely knew upon 
what grounds they were to assent to the things that 
were taught them : for it was a maxim of all teachers, 
that the learner must believe : Disceniem opertet credere. 
Then an ipse dixit, or Aristotle said so, was a sufficient 
proof of any proposition in the colleges ; and for a 
man of five and twenty to be a Christian and a Protest- 
ant, a Dissenter or a Churchman, it was almost reason 
enough to say that his father was so. But in this cen- 
tury, when the doctrine of a just and reasonable liberty 
is Better known, too many of the present youth break 
all the bonds of nature and duty, and run into the wild- 
est degrees of looseness both in belief and practice. 
They slight the religion which their parents have 
taught them, that they may appear to have chosen a 
religion for themselves, and when they have made a 
creed or belief of their own, or rather borrowed some 
scraps of infidelity from their vain companions and 
equals, they find pretences enough to cast off all other 
creeds at once, as well as the councils and customs of 
their religious predecessors. 

"The practices of our fathers, say they, were 
precise and foolish, and shall be no rule for our conduct ; 
the articles of their faith were absurd and mysterious, 
but we will believe nothing <»f mystery, lest our faith 
should be as ridiculous as theirs." In their younger 
years, and before their reason is half grown, they pre- 
tend to examine the sublimest doctrines of Christianity ; 
and a raw and half witted boy, shall commence an 
infidel, because he cannot comprehend some ©f the 



OP THE MIND. S37 

glorious truths of the gospel ; and laughs at his elders 
and ancestors, for believin;;; what they could not com- 
prehend. 

The child now a days forgets that his parent is 
obliged, by all the laws of God and nature, to train him 
up in his own religion, till he coraes to the proper age 
of discretion to judge for himself; he forgets, or he 
will not know, that the parent is instructed with the 
care of the souls of his young offspring by the very laws 
of nature, as well as by the revealed covenants of in- 
nocency and of grace. The son now a days forgets the 
obligations he is under to honour and obey the persons 
who gave him birth ; he pays no regard to the doctrines 
which led on his ancestors to the love of God and 
man ; whereas doctrines that have such influence claim 
at least some degrees of attention, and especially from 
a son who has been trained up in them, and beheld the 
effect of them in the piety of his parents ; nor will the 
very light of nature suffer him to depart from them, but 
upon the clearest judgment of his own mature reason, 
a thorough and impartial search into the subject, the 
loud inward dictates of his conscience, and the full 
evidence of his parents' mistake. 

So wanton and licentious a spirit has possessed some 
of the youth of the nation, that they never think they 
have freed themselves from the prejudices of their ed- 
ucation, tin they have thrown off almost all the yokes 
of restraint, that were laid upon them by God or man. 
Some take a petulant pride in laying aside the holy 
scriptures, for the same reason that Timothy was ad- 
vised to continue in them ; and that is, because They 
have learned and known them from their very childhood : 
2 Tim. iii. 15. And some perhaps have been laughed 
out of their Christianity, lest it should be said that 
their mothers and their nurses had made them chris- 
tians. 

Heretofore the sons were scarce suffered to be absent 
from home an hour without express leave, till they, 
were arrived at the age of man, nor daughters till they 
were married : Now, both sexes take an unbounded h- 
cense of roving where they please, and from a dozen 
years old they forget to ask leave to wander or to visit 
where their fancies lead them : At first, the parent gives 
F f 



S38 IMPROVEMENT 

a loose and winks at it, and then the child claims it as 
his due for ever. » 

In short the last age taught mankind to believe that 
they were mere children, and treated them as such, till 
they were near thirty years old ; but the pre3ent gives 
them leave to fancy themselves complete men and wo- 
men at twelve or fifteen ; and they accordingly judge 
and manage for themselves entirely, and too often 
despise all advice of their elders. 

JNow, though it be sufficiently evident that both these 
are extremes of liberty or restraint, yet if we judge by 
the reason of things, or by experience and success, 
surely the ancient education is to be preferred before 
the present, and of the two should rather be chosen. 

If we would determine this by reason, it is easy to 
see that a father of fifty or sixty years old is fitter to 
judge for his son, at four and twenty, in matters 
of importance, than a boy of fifteen is to judge for 
himself. 

Or, if we would decide the matter by experience, 
it is plain enough that the posterity of the former, 
generation, whc are the ft\thers and the grandfathers of 
the present, had more of serious religion and true vir- 
tue amongst them, than there is any hope or prospect 
of amongst the greatest part of their children and 
grandchildren. And if I would use a bold metaphor, 
I might venture to say with truth, the last century has 
brought forth more solid fruits of goodness, than the 
present can yet show in blossoms ; and in my opinion, 
this is much owing to the neglect of the pruning knife. 

But, after all, is there no medium between these two 
extremes, excess of confinement and excess of liberty ? 
May not young understandings be allowed to shoot and 
spread themselves a little, without growing rank and 
rampant ? May not children be kept in a due and gentle 
subjection to their parents, without putting yokes of 
bondage on them ? Is there no reasonable restraint of 
the wild opinions and violent inclinations of youth» 
without making chains for the understanding, and 
throwing fetters on the soul ? May not the young gen- 
tleman begin to act like a man without forgetting that 
he is a son ; and maintain the full liberty of his own 
judgment, without insoleace and contempt of the 



OP THE MIND. 339 

opinions of his elders ? May not he who is bred up a 
Protestent and a Christian, judge freely for himself, 
"without the prejudices of his education, and yet contin- "^ 
ue a Christian and a Protestent still ? Is it not possible 
for the parent to indulge, and the child to enjoy a just 
liberty, and yet neither encourage nor practise a wild 
licentiousness ? 

Yes, surely ; and there have been happy instances in 
the last age, and there are some in this, both of parents 
and children that have learned to tread this middle 
path, and found wisdom and virtue in it, piety and 
peace. Agathus has bred his sons up under such 
discipline, as renders them both proper examples to 
the world. 

Eugenioisjust out of his minority, and in the twenty 
second year of his age practises the man with all that 
virtue and decency which makes his father's acquaint- 
ance covet his company : and indeed they may learn 
by his discourse the art of good reasoning, as well as 
the [)recepts of piety from his example. He is an en- 
tertaining companion to the young gentlemen his 
«quals ; and yet divines and philosophers take a pleas- 
ure to have Eugenio amongst them. He is carressed 
by his superiors in honour and years ; and though he 
is released from the discipline of parental education, 
yet treats the lady his mother with all that affectionate 
duty that could be desired or demanded of him ten 
years ago ; his father is content to see his own youth 
outshined by his son, and confesses that Eugenio 
already promises greater things than Agathus ciid at 
thirty. 

If you ask whence these happy qualities arise, I grant 
there was some foundation for them in the very make 
of his nature ; there was something of a complexion- 
al virtue mingled with his frame ; but it is much more 
owing to the wise conduct of his parents, from his very 
infancy, and the blessing of divine grace attending 
their labours, their prayers, and their hopes. 

He was trained up from the very cradle to all the 
duties of infant virtue, by the allurements of love and 
reward suited to his age ; and never was driven to 
practise any thing by a frown or a hasty word where it 
was possible for kinder affections to work the same 
effect by indulgence and delay. 



S40 IMPROVEMENT 

As fast as his reasoning powers began to appear and 
exert themselves, they were conducted in an easy track 
of thought to find out and observe the reasonableness 
of every part of his duty, and the lovely character of 
a child obedient to reason and to his parents' will ; 
while every departure from duty was shown to be so 
contrary to reason, as laid an early foundation for con- 
science to work upon ; conscience began here to as- 
sume its office, and to manifest its authority in dictates, 
and reproofs, and reflections of mind, peaceful or pain- 
ful, according to his behaviour. When his parents 
observed this inward monitor to awake his soul, they 
could better trust him out of their sight. 

"When he became capable of conceiving of an al- 
mighty and invisible Being, who made this world and 
every creature in it, he was taught to pay all due re- 
gard to this God his make:r ; and from the authority 
and love of his father on earth, he was led to form right 
ideas, as far as childhood permitted, of the power, 
government and goodness of the universal and supreme 
Father of all in heaven. 

He was informed why punishment was due to an 
offence against God or his parents, that his fear might 
become an useful passion to awaken or guard his virtue ; 
but he was instructed at the same time, that where he 
heartily repented of a fault, and returned to his duty 
with due diligence, there was forgiveness to be obtain r 
ed both of God and man. 

When at any time a friend interceded for him to his 
ftither, after he had been guilty of a fault, he was here- 
by directed into the doctrine of Jesus, the Mediator 
between God and man ; and thus he knew him as an 
Intercessor, before he could well understand the notion 
of his sacrifice,and atonement. 

In his younger years he passed but twice under the 
correction of the rod ; once for a fit of obstinacy and 
persisting in a falsehood ; then he was given up to a 
severe chastisement, and it dispelled and cured the 
sullen humour for ever ; and once for the contempt of his 
mother's authority he endured the -scourge again, and 
he wanted it no more. 

He was enticed sometimes to the love of letters, by 
making his lesson a reward of some domestic duty ; and 



eF THE MIND. 341 

5a permissslon to pursue some parts of learning was the 
appointed recompence of his diligence and improve- 
ment in others. 

• There was nothing required of his memory but what 
"xvas first, as far as possible, let into his understanding, 
and by proper iniages and representations suited to his 
years, he was taught to form some conception of the 
things described, before he was bid to learn the words 
by heart Thus he was freed from the danger of treas- 
uring up the cant and jargon of mere names, instead of 
the riches of solid knowledge. 

Where any abstruse and difficult notions occurred in 
his course of learning, his preceptor postponed them 
till he had gone through that subject in a more super- 
ficial way ; for this purpose he passed twice through 
all the sciences ; and to make the doctrines of Chris- 
tianity easy to him in his childhood, he had two or 
three catechisms composed by his tutor, each of them 
suited to his more early or more improved capacity, 
till at twelve years old he was thought fit to learn that 
public form, which is more universally taught and ap- 
proved. 

As he was inured to reasoning from his childhood, 
so he was instructed to prove every thing, according to 
the nature of the subject, by natural or moral argu 
ments, as far as his years would admit ; and thus he 
drew much of his early knowledge from reason, or 
from revelation, by the force of his judgment, and not 
merely from his teachers by the strength of his me- 
mory. 

His parents were persuaded indeed that they ought 
to teach him the principles of virtue while he was a 
child ; and the most important truths of religion, both 
natural and revealed, before he was capable of deriving 
them from the fund of his own reason ; or of framing 
a religion for himself out of so large a book as the 
Bible. They thought themselves under the obligation 
of that divine command, " train up a child in the way 
that he should g*©, and when he is old he will not depart 
Jrom ity Prov. xxii. 6. And therefore from a child 
they made him acquainted with the holy scriptures, 
persuaded him to believe that they were given by the 
inspiration of God, before it was possible for him to 
F f £ 



342 IMPROVEMENT 

take in the arguments from reason, history, tradition, 
&c. which must be joined together to confirm the 
sacred canon, and prove the several books of the Bible 
to be divine. Thus, like Timothy, he con/inwer/ in (he 
things which ht had learned , and had been assured of, 
knowing of whom he had learned them, SL Tim. iii. 14, 
15, 16. Vet as his years advanced, they thought it 
requisite to show him the solid and rational foundations 
of his faith, that his hope might be built upon the 
authority of God and not of men. 

Thus the apostles and prophets were made his early 
companions ; and being instructed in the proofs of the 
Christian religion, and the divine original of his Bible, 
he pays a more constant and sacred regard to it, since 
his judgment and reason assure him that it is the word 
of trod, than when he was a child and believed it 
because his mother told him so. He reads the scrip- 
tures daily now, not like the lessons of his infancy, but 
asthe infallible rule of his faith and practice: He searches 
them every day in his closet, not to confirm any articles 
or doctrines that he is resolved to believe, but, as the 
noble Bereans did, to examine and try whether those 
doctrines and articles ought to be believed or not, which 
he was taught in the nursery. 

After he arrived at fifteen, he was suffered to admit 
nothing into his full assent, till hi& tnind saw the 
rational evidence of the proposition itself ; or at least 
till he felt the power of those reasons which obliged 
him to assent upon moral evidence and testimony, 
where the evidences of sense or of reason were not to 
be expected. He knew that he was not to hope for 
mathematical proofs that there is a Pope at Rome, that 
the Turks have dominion over Judea, that St. Paul 
wrote an epistle to the Romans, that Christ was cruci- 
fied without the gates of Jerusalem, and that in three 
days time he rose from the dead ; and yet that there is 
just and reasonable evidence to enforce and support 
the belief of all these. Where truths uere too sublime 
for present comprehension, he would nrver admit them 
as a part of his faith, till he saw full evidence of a speak- 
ing God, and a divine revelation. 

His tutor never imposed any thing on him with a 
magisterial air, but by way of advice recommended to 



OF THE MIND. 348 

iiim such studies and such methods of improvement as 
his experience had long approved ; he gave frequent 
hints of the danger of some opinions, and the fatal 
consequences of some modish and mistaken principles. 
He let him know generally what sentiments he himself 
embraced among the divided opinions of the age ; and 
what clear and comprehensive knowledge, what satis- 
faction of judgment, serenity of mind, and peace of 
conscience were to be found in the principles which he 
had chosen ; but he exhorted his pupil still to choose 
wisely for himself, and led him onward in the sciences, 
and in common and sacred affairs, to frame his own 
sentiments by just rules of reasoning ; though Eugenic 
did not superstitiously confine his belief to the opinions 
of his inslructer, yet he could not but love the man that 
indulged him in such a liberty of thought, and gave 
him such an admirable clue, by which he let himself 
into the secrets of knowledge, human and divine ; thus, 
under the happy and insensible influences of so pru- 
dent a supervisor, he traced the paths of learning, and 
enjoyed the unspeakable pleasure of being his own 
teacher, and of framing his opinions himself. By this 
means he began early to use his reason with freedom, 
and to judge for himself, without a servile submission to 
the authority of others ; and yet to pay a just and 
solenm deference to persons of age and experience, and 
particularly to those who were the proper and appoint- 
ed guides of his youth, and who led him on so gently 
in tlie paths of knowledge. 

He loves to call himself by the honourable name of a 
christian ; and though his particular sentiments ap- 
proach much nearer to the opinions of some parties 
than to others, yet he likes not to be called by the 
name of any party, for he is wise and bold enough to. 
be a bigot to none. He practices a noble and an ex- 
tensive charity to those that, in lesser matters, differ 
widely from him, if they do but maintain the most 
essential and necessary parts of Christianity ; nor does 
he seclude them from his communion, nor withhold 
himself from theirs ; but as the providence of God 
gives him just occasions, he eats and drinks with them 
at the table of their common Lord, provided always 



344 fMPROVEMENT 

that they impose nothing upon his practice contrary t* | 
his conscience. i 

Yet his cliarity has its limits too; for he hardly 
knows how to worship the Son of God in the most 
solemn ordinance of communion, with those that 
esteem him but a mere man ; nor can he join with an 
assembly of professed Socinians to commemorate the 
death of Christ, who deny it to be a proper atonement 
for the sins of men. 

He dares to believe the doctrines of original sin, the 
satisfaction of Christ, the influences of the blessed 
Spirit, and other despised truths of the gospel ; and 
this not because his ancestors believed them, but 
because he cannot avoid the evidence of them in 
scripture. And if in some few points of less importance 
he takes leave to differ from the sentiments of his 
elders, it is with such a becoming modesty, that con- 
vinces his father how unwilling he is to dissent from 
him ; and yet he maintains his opinion with such an 
appearance of argument, and such an honest concern 
for truth and piety, that makes it plain to his friends, 
that he is under the strong constraint of an inward 
conviction. Thus though he has perhaps some new ap- 
prehensions of things, yet he is by no means led into 
them by a licentious humour of opposing his teachers, 
nor a wanton pride of free thinking. 

He was not kept a stranger to the errors and follies of 
mankind, nor was he let loose amongst them, either in 
books or company, without a guard and a guide. His 
preceptor let him know the gross mistakes and iniquities 
of men, ancient and modern, but inlaid him with pro- 
per principles of truth and virtue, and furnished iiim 
Avith such rules of judgment, as led him more easily to 
distinguish between good and bad ; and thus lie was 
secured against the infection and the poison, both of 
the living and the dead. 

He had earl}"- cautions given him to avoid the ban- 
tering tribe of mortals, and was instructed to distinguish 
a jest from an argument, so that a loud laugh at his 
reiigion never puts him nor his faith out of countenance. 
He is ever ready to render a reason of his Christian 
hope, and to defend his creed ; but he scorns to enter 
the list with such a disputant that has no artillej*y but 



OF THE MIND. 540 

-squtb and flash, no arguments but grimace and ridicule. 
Thus he supports the character of a Christian with 
honour; he confines his faith to his Bible, and his 
practice to all the rules of piety ; and yet thinks as 
freely as that vain herd of Atheists and Deists, who 
arrogate the name of Freethinkers to themselves. 

You will inquire, perhaps, how he came to attain so 
manly a conduct in life at so early an age, and how 
every thing of the boy was worn off so soon. Truly, 
besides other influences, it is much owing to the happy 
management of Eraste, that was the name of the lady, 
his mother ; she was frecjuently in the nursery, and 
inspired sentiments into his childhood, becoming riper 
years. When there was company in, the parlour with 
whom she could use such a freedom, she brought her 
son in among them, not to entertain them with his own 
noise, and tattle, and impertinence, but to hear their 
discourse, and sometimes to answer a little question or 
two they might ask him. When he was grown up to a 
youth, he was often admitted into the room with his 
father's acquaintance, and was indulged the liberty to 
ask and inquire on subjects that seemed to be above 
his years; he was encouraged to speak a sentence or 
two of his own thoughts, and thus to learn and practise 
a modest assurance. But when the company was gone, 
he was approved and praised if he had behaved well, 
or received kind hints of admonition that he might 
know when he had been too silent, and when too for- 
ward to speak. Thus by enjoying the advantage of 
society above the level of his own age and Understand- 
ing, he was always aspiring to imitation : and the ex- 
cesses and defects of his conduct were daily noticed 
and cured. 

His curiosity was gratified abroad with new sights 
and scenes, as often as his parents could do it with 
convenience, that he might not stare and wonder at 
every strange object or occurrence; but he was made 
patient of restraint and disappointment, when he 
seemed to indulge an excessive desire of any needless 
diversion. If he sought any criminal pleasures, or 
diversions attended with great danger and inconven- 
ience, the pursuit of them was absolutely forbidden : 
but it was done in so kind a manner, as made the guile 



346 IMPROVEMENT 

or peril of them appear in the strongest light, and 
thereby they were rendered hateful or formidable; 
rather than the objects of wish or desire. 

When Eugenio first began to go abroad in the world, 
his companions were recommended to him by the 
prudence of his parents ; or if he chose them himself, 
it was still within the reach of his tutor's observation, 
or the notice of his father's eye ; nor was he suffered 
to run loose into promiscuous company, till it appeared 
that his mind was furnished with steady principles of 
virtue ; till he had knowledge enough to defend those 
principles, and to repel the assaults that might be made 
upon his faith. And for this reason, till he was twenty 
years old, he gave account to his superiors how he 
spent the day, whensoever he Avas absent from them ; 
though they did not at that age require that he should 
ask formal leave for a few hours excursion. 

Yet it was hardly thought fit to trust him to his own 
conduct for whole days together, lest he should meet 
with temptations too hard for his virtue , till he had 
gained resolution enough to say NO boldly, and to 
maintain an obstinate refusal of perriicious pleasures. 
He was told beforehand how the profane and lewd 
would use all the arts of address, and how subtilly they 
would practise upon his good humour with powerful 
and tempting importunities. This set him ever upon 
his guard, and though he carried his sweetness of tem- 
per always about with him, yet he learned to conceal 
it wheresoever it was neither proper nor safe to appear. 
By a little converse in the world, he found that it was 
necessary to be positive, bold, and immoveable in 
rejecting every proposal which might endanger his 
character or his morals ; especially as he soon became 
sensible that a soft and cold denial gave courage to new 
attacks, and left him liable to be teased with fresh so- 
licitations. He laid down this therefore for a constant 
rule, that where his reason had determined any prac- 
tice to be either plainly sinful or utterly inexpedient, he 
would give so firm a denial, upon the principles of 
virtue and religion, as should for ever discourage any 
further solicitations. This gave him the character of a 
inan of resolute virtue, even among the rakes of the 
time ; nor iivas he ever esteemed the less on this ac- 



OF THE MIND. 547 

count. At first indeed he thought it a happy victory 
which he had gained over himself, when he could defy 
the shame of the world, and resolve to be a Christian in 
the face of vice and infidelity : He found the shortest 
way to conquer this foolish shame, was to renounce it 
at once ; then it was easy to practise singularity amidst 
a profane multitude. And when he began to get cour- 
age enough to profess resolute piety without a blush, 
in the midst of such company as this, Agathus and 
Eraste then permitted their son to travel abroad, and 
to see more of the world, under the protection of their 
daily prayers. His first tour was through the neigh- 
bouring counties of England ; he afterwards enlarged 
the circuit of his travels, till he .had visited foreign 
nations and learned the value of his own.' 

in short, the restraints of his younger j'ears were 
tempered with so much liberty, and managed with such 
prudence and tenderness, and these bonds of discipline 
were so gradually loosened, as fast as he grew wise 
enough to govern himself, that Eugenio always carried 
about with him an inward conviction of the great love 
and wisdom of his parents, and his tutor. The humours 
of the child now and then felt some reluctance against 
the pious discipline of his elders ; but now he has arrived 
to manhood, there is nothing he looks back upon with 
greater satisfaction than the steps of their conduct, and 
the instances of his own submission. He often recounts 
these things with pleasure, as some of the chief favours of 
heaven, whereby he was guarded through all the dan- 
gers and follies of youth and childhood, and effectually 
kept, through divine grace operating by these happy 
means, from a thousand sorrows, and perhaps from 
everlasting ruin. 

Though he has been released some years from the 
strictness of paternal government, yet he still makes 
his parents his chosen friends ; and though they cease 
to practise authority upon him and absolute command, 
yet he pays the utmost deference to their councils, and 
to the first notice of their inclinations. You shall never 
find him resisting and debating against their desires and 
propensities in little common things of life, which are 
indifferent in themselves ; he thinks it carries in it toa 
much contempt of those whom Qod and nature require 



348 IMPROVEMENT 

him to hononr. In those instances of practice which 
they utterly forbid in their family, he bears so tender a 
regard to their peace, that he will scarcely ever allow 
himself in them, even when he cannot see sufficient 
reason to pronounce them unlawful. — Nor does he pay 
this regard to his parents alone ; but denies himself in 
some gratifications which he esteems innocent, out of 
regard to wliat he accounts the mistaken judgment of 
some pious persons with whom he converses and wor- 
ships. They are weak, perhaps, in their austerities ; 
hut St. Paul has taught him that the strong ought to 
bear with tlie infirmities of the w eak, and not to please 
themselves to the offence of the church of God. This 
he observed to be the constant practice of Agathns and 
Eraste ; and he maintains a great regard to the exam- 
ples of so much piety and goodness, even though his 
reason does not lead him always to embrace their opin- 
ions. Whensoever he enters into any important action 
of life, he takes a filial pleasure to seek advice from his 
worthy parents ; and it is uneasy to him to attempt any- 
thing. of moment without it. He does not indeed uni- 
versally practise all their sentiments ; but he gains their 
consent to follow his own reason and choice. 

Some of the wild young gentlemen of the age may 
happen to laugh at him for being so much a boy still, 
and for showing such subjection to the old folks, as they 
call them ; with a scornful smile they bid him " break 
off his leading-strings and cast away his yokes of bon- 
dage." But for the most part he observes, that the 
same persons shake off all yokes at once ; and at once 
break the bonds of nature, duty, and religion ; they 
pay but little regard to their superior in heaven, any 
more than to those on earth ; and have forgot God and 
their parents together. " Nor will I ever be moved, says 
he, with the reproaches of those who make a jest of 
things sacred as well as civil, and treat their mother 
and their Maker with the same contempt." 



OF THE MIND. 349 



SECTION XI. 

Of tilt proper Degrees of Liberty and Restraint in the 
Education of Daughters, illustrated by Examples. 

JLT is necessary that youth should be laid under some 
restraint. When our inclinations are violent, and our 
judgment weak, it was a wise provision of God our 
Creator that we should be under the cowduct of those 
who were born before us ; and that we should be bound 
to obey them who have an innate solicitude for our 
happiness, and are much fitter to judge for our advan- 
tage than we ourselves can be in that early part of life, 

But it may be said, liberty is so glorious a blessing, 
that surely it O'lght not utterly to be taken away from 
the young, lest their spirits be cramped and enslaved, 
and the growth of their souls so stinted by a narrow 
and severe Restraint, that they act all their lives like chil- 
dren under age. Or, sometimes a too rigid confine- 
ment will have the contrary eflect, and make the impa- 
tience of youth break out beyond all bounds as soon 
as ever they get the first relish of freedom. 

But O ! how exceedingly difficult it is to hit the mid-i,.!^ 
die way ! How hard for parents to manage their own ^ 
authority with so much gentleness, and to regulate the 
liberties of their children with so wise a discipline, as to 
fall into neither extreme, nor give unhappy occasion for \ 
censure ! Though 1 have spoken my opinion freely, j 
that it is safer to err on the side of restraint than of ex- / 
cessive indulgence. 

Antigone hadanexcellentmother, but she died young: 
Antigone, with her elder sister, from their very infancy 
were placed under a grandmother's care. The good 
old gentlewoman trained them up precisely in the 
forms she herself was educated, when the modes of 
breeding had, it must be confessed, too much narrow- 
ness and austerity. She gave them all the good instruc- 
tions she had received from her ancestors, and would 
scarcely ever suffer them to be out of her sight. She 
saw the eldest well married at five and twenty, and set- 
tled in a course of virtue and religion ; she found her zeal 



350 IMPROVEMENT 

and pious care attended with success in several of her 
posterity, and she departed this life in peace. 

But unhappy Antigone took a different turn ; she 
was let loose into the world with all her possessions and 
powers in her own hand ; and, falling into vain com- 
pany, she got such a taste of unbounded liberty and 
modish vices, that she could never reflect upon themeth- 
od of her own education without angry remarks or ridi- 
cule. 

AVhen she came to have children of her own she still 
retained the resentment which she had conceived at the 
conduct of her grandmother, and therefore resolved 
that her daughters should be brought up in the other 
extreme. 

" In my younger times, said she, we were kept hard 
to the labour of the needle, and spent six hours a day 
at it, as though I were to get my bread by my fingers' 
ends ; but a little of that business shall serve these chil- 
dren, for their father has left them good fortunes of 
their own. 

" We were not suffered to read any thing but the Bi- 
ble and sermon books ; but I shall teach mine politer 
lessons out of plays and romances, that they may be 
acquainted with the world betimes. 

" My eldest sister was scarcely ever allowed to speak 
in company till she was married, and it was a tiresome 
length of years before that day came. The old proverb 
ran thus : A maiden must be seen and not heard ; but 
I hope my little daughters will not be dumb. 

" We were always confined to dwell at home, unless 
some extraordinary occasion called us abroad, perhaps 
once in a month, or twice in a summer. We were 
taught to play the good housewife in the kitchen and 
the pastery, and were well instructed in the conduct of 
the broom and the duster : but we knew nothmg of the 
modes of the court and the diversions of the town. I 
should be ashamed to see these young creatures that 
are under my care so awkward in company at four- 
teen as I was at four and twenty." 

And thus Antigone brought up her young family of 
daughters agreeable to her own loose notions ; for she 
had formed her sentiments of education merely from 
the aversioa she had conceived to the way of her elders. 



OF THE MIND. 351 

and chose the very reverse of their conduct for her rule 
because their piety and wisdom had a little allay of rig- 
our and stiffness attending them. 

The young things, under their mother's eye, could 
manage the tea-table at ten years' old, when they could 
hardly read a chapter in the New Testament. At 
fourteen they learned the airs of the world ; they gad 
abroad at their pleasure, and will hardly suffer Anti- 
gone to direct them, or to go with them ; they despise the 
old woman betimes, for they can visit without her atten- 
dance, and prattle abundantly without her prompting. 

She led or sent them to the play-house twice or 
thrice in a week, where a great part of their natural 
modesty is worn off and forgotten : Modesty, the guard 
of youthful virtue ! they can talk love stories out of 
Cleopatra ; they are well practised already in the arts 
of scandal ; and for want of better furniture of mind, 
emptiness and impertinence, ribands and fashions, gay 
gentlemen and wanton songs, ever dwell upon their 
tongues. They have been taught so little to set a guard 
upon themselves, that their virtue is much suspected. 
But (be that as it will) they are seized and married before 
sixteen, being tempted away to bind themselves for life 
to a laced coat and fashionable wig. Thus children set 
up at once to govern a family : but so ignorant in all 
those concerns, that from the garret to the kitchen 
the whole house is entirely ruled by the humour of the 
servants, because the young mistress knows not how 
to instruct or correct them. There is neither religiori 
nor prudence among them, at home or abroad. Thus 
they make haste to ruin and misery in this world, witn- 
out thought or hope of the world to come, and the 
heaven or the hell that awaits us there. 

Antigone sees her own mistake too late : and though 
she has not so just a sense or horror of their loose and 
profane life as would become her years, yet is vexed 
to see herself neglected so soon, and scorned by her 
own children ; but she confesses with a sigh, that she 
has led them the way by laughing so often at her good 
old grandmother. 

How much wiser is Phronissa in the education that 
she gives her daughters, who maintains a happy me- 
dium between the severity of the last age, and the wild 



352 IMPROVEMENT 

license of this! She manages her conduct towards 
them with such an admirable felicity, that though she 
confines them within the sacred limits of virtue and 
religion, they have not a wish beyond the libertiei? 
"which they daily enjoy. 

Phronissa, when her daughters were little children, 
usf^d to spend some hours daily in the nursery, and 
taught the young creatures to recite many a pretty pas- 
sage out of the Bible, before they were capable of read- 
ing it themselves ; yet at six years old they read the 
scriptures with ease^ and then they rejoiced to find 
the same stories in Genesis and in the Gospels which 
their mother had taught them before. As their years 
advanced they were admitted into the best conversa- 
tion, and had such books put into their hands as might 
acquaint them with the rules of prudence and piety in 
an easy and familiar way : the reading the lives of 
eminent persons, who were examples of this kind, 
was one of the daily methods she used, at once to 
instruct and entertain them. By such means, and oth- 
ers which she wisely adapted to their advanced age, 
they had all the knowledge bestowed upon them 
that could be supposed proper for women, and that 
might render their character honourable and useful in 
the world. 

As for plays and romances, they were ever brei up 
in a just apprehension of the danger and mischief of 
them : C^ollier's View of the Stage was early put into 
their closets, that they might learn there the hideous 
immorality and profaneness of the English comedies : 
and by the way, he forbids us to hope from our tragi- 
cal poets a much safer entertainment. There they 
might read enough to forbid their attendance on the 
playhouse ; and see the poison exposed without danger 
of the infection. The servants that waited on them, 
and the books that were left within their reach, were 
such as never corrupted their minds with impure words 
or images. 

Long has Phronissa known that domestic virtues are 
the business and the honour of our sex. Nature and 
history a^ree to assure her that the conduct of the 
liousehold is committed to the women, and the pre- 
cepts and examples of scripture confirm it. She edu- 



OF THE MIND. S53 

cated her daughters therefore in constant acquaintance 
with all family affairs, and they knew betimes what be= 
longed to the provisions of the table, and the furniture 
of every room. Though her circumstances were con- 
siderable in the world, yet by her own example she 
made her children know, that a frequent visit to the 
kitchen was not beneath their state, nor the common 
menial affairs t6o mean for their notice, that they might 
be able hereafter to manage their own house, and hot 
be directed, imposed upon, and perhaps ridiculed, by 
their own servants. 

They were initiated early in the science of the nee- 
dle, and were bred up skilful in all the plain and the 
flowery arts of it ; but it was never made a task nor a 
toil to them ; nor did they waste their hours in those 
nice and tedious works which cost our female ances- 
tors seven years of their life, and stitches without 
number. To render this exercise pleasant, one of 
them always entertained the company with some use- 
ful author, while the rest v.'ere at work ; every one had 
freedom and encouragement to start what question she 
pleased, and to make any remarks on the present sub- 
ject; that reading, working, and conversation, might 
fill up the hour with variety and delight. Thus while 
their hands were making garments for themselves or 
for the poor, their minds were enriched with treasures 
of human and divine knowledge. 

At proper se»si||s the young ladies were instructed 
in the gayer accomplishments of their age ; but they 
were taught to esteem the song and the dance some 
of their meanest talents, because they are often forgot- 
ten in advanced years, and add but little to the virtue, 
the honour, or the happiness of life. 

Phronissa herself was sprightly and active, and she 
abhorred a slothful and lazy humour ; therefore she 
constantly found out same inviting and agreeable em- 
ployment for her daughters, that thej^ might hate 
idleness as a mischievous vice, and be trained up to an 
active and useful life. Yet she perpetually insinuated 
the superior delights of the closet, and tempted them 
by all divine methods to the love of devout retirement. 
Whensoever she seemed to distinguish them by any 
peculiar favours, it was generally upon some new indi- 
G g £ 



firA IMPROVEMENT 

cation of caily piety, or some young practice of a self 
denying virtue. 

They were tauglit to receive visits in forms agreeable 
to the age ; and though they knew the modes of dress 
sufficiently to secure them from any thing awkward or 
unfashionable, yet their minds were so well furnished 
ivith richer vanet}^, that they had no need to run to 
those poor and trivial topics, to exclude silence and 
dulncssfrom the drawiiiK-room. They would not give 
such an affront to the understandings of the ladies their 
visitants, as to treat them with such meanness and im- 
pertinence : therefore all this sort of conversation, was 
reserved almost entirely, for the minutes appointed 
to the milliner and the tire- woman. 

Here I must publish it to their honour, to provoke 
the sex to imitation, that though they comported with 
the fashion in all their ornaments, so far as the fashion 
was modest and could approve itself to reason or 
religion, yet Phronissa would not suffer their younger 
judgments to be so far imposed on by custom, as that 
the mode should be entirely the measure of all decency 
to them. She knew there was such a thing as natural 
harmon}'^ and agieeablcness: in the beauties of colour 
and figure, her delicacy of taste Avas exquisite : and 
where the mode run counter to nature, though she in- 
dulged her daughters to follow it in some innocent in- 
stances, because she loved not to be remarkably sin- 
gular in things of indifference, yet sj||; took care always 
to teach them to distinguish gay Tolly and extrava- 
gance from natural decencies, both in furniture and in 
dress : Their rank in the world was eminent ; but they 
never appeared the first, nor the highest in any new- 
fangled forms of attire. By her wise examples and 
instructions she had formed their minds, as to be able 
to see garments more gaudy, or even more modish 
than their own, without envy or wishes. They could 
bear to find a trimming set a little awry, or the plait of 
a garment ill-disposed, without making the whole house 
and the day uneasy, and the sun and heavens smile 
upon them in vain. 

Phronissa taught <^hem the happy art of managing a 
visit with some useful improvement of the hour, and 
without offence. If a word of scandal occurred m 



OF THE MIND. 355 

company, it was soon diverted or suppressed. The 
children were charged to speak well of their neighbours^ 
as far as truth would adraitj and to be silent as to 
any thing further : but when the poor or the deformed 
were mentioned in discourse, the aged, the lame, or the 
blind, those objects were handled with the utmost ten- 
derness : nothing could displease Phronissa more than 
to hear a jest thrown upon natural infirmities: she 
thought there was something sacred in misery, and it 
was not to be touched with a rude hand. All reproach 
and satire of this kind was for ever banished where she 
came ; and if ever raillery was indulged, vice and wil- 
ful folly were the constant subjects of it. 

Persons of distinguished characters she always dis- 
tinguished in her respect, and trained up her family to 
pay the same civilities. — Whensoever she named her 
own parents, it was with high veneration and love ; and 
thereby she naturally led her children to give due hon- 
our to all their superior relatives. 

Though it be the fashion of the age to laugh at the 
priesthood in all forms, and to teach every boy to scoff 
at a minister, Phronissa paid double honours to them 
who laboured in the word and doctrine, where there 
personal behaviour upheld the dignity of their office ; 
for she was persuaded St. Paul was a better director 
than the gay gentlemen of the mode. 1 Tim. v. 17. 
Besides, she wisely considered, that a contempt of 
their persons would necessarily bring with it a con- 
tempt of all their ministrations ; and then she might 
carry her daughters to church as much as she pleased, 
but preaching and praying, and all sacred things, would 
grow despicable and useless when they had first learned 
to make a jest of the preacher. 

But are these young ladies always confined at home ? 
Are they never suffered to see the world? Yes, and 
sometimes without the guard of a mother too ; though 
Phronissa is so well beloved by her children that they 
would very seldom choose to go without her. Their 
souls are inlaid betimes with the principles of virtue and 
prudence ; these are their constant guard ; nor do they 
ever wish to make a visit where their mother has rea- 
son to suspect their safety. 

They have freedom given them in all the common 



S5$ IMPROVEMENT, &c. 

affairs of life to choose for themselves ; but thfey take 
pleasure, for the most part, in referring the choice back 
again to their elders. JPhronissa has managed the res- 
traint of their younger years with so much reason and 
love, that they have seemed all their lives to know 
nothing but liberty ; and admonition of their parents 
meets with cheerful compliance, and is never debated. 

A wish or desire has the same power over them now, 
as a command had in their infancy and childhood ; for 
the command w^as ever dressfd in the softest lan- 
gtiage of authority, and this '^ »de every act ofobedience 
a delight, till it became an habitual pleasure. 

In short, they have been educated with such discre- 
tion, tenderness, and piety, as have laid a foundation to 
make them happy and useful in the rising age; tiieir 
parents wifh pleasure v'w.w the gi owing prospect, and 
retur'i daiiy thanks to Almighty God, whose blessing 
h'^H attended their watchful cares, and hasthusfarans- 
wered their most fervent devotions. 



REMNANTS OF TIME, 

EMPLOYED IN 

PROSE AND VERSE: 
OR, 

SHORT ESSAYS AND COMPOSURES, 

ON 
VARIOUS SUBJECTS, 



ADVERTISEMENT. 

Dr. Watts* s Opinion about publishing these Papers, ap- 
pears in the following Advertisement, prefixed to them 
by himself. 

THESE papers were written at several seasons and 
intervals of leisure, and on various occasions, arising 
through the greatest part of my life. Many of them 
were designed to be published among the Reliquce Ju' 
veniles ; but, for some reason or other, not worth pre- 
sent notice, were laid by at that time. Whether I shall 
ever publish them 1 know not, though far the greatest 
part of them have long stood corrected among my manu- 
scripts; nor do I suppose many of them inferior to those 
Essays and remarks ef this kind, which have before 
appeared in the world with some acceptance. If they 
are not published in my life-time, my worthy friends, 
who have the care of my papers, may leave out what 
they please. 

July 3, 1740. I. W, 



KEMNANTS OF TIME, 

EMPLOYED IN 

PROSE AND VERSE, &lc. 



I. Justice and Grace, 

JNeVER was there any hour since the creation of all 
things, nor ever will be until the last conflagration, 
wherein the holy God so remarkably displayed his 
justice and his grace, as that hour which saw our Lord 
Jesus Christ hanging upon the cross, forsaken of his 
Father and expiring. W hat a dreadful glory was given 
to vindictive justice when the great and terrible God 
made the soul of his own Son a painful sacrifice for 
sin ! What an amazing instance of grace, that he 
should redeem such worthless sinners as we are from 
the vengeance, by exposing his beloved Son to itt 
When I view the severity or the compassion of that 
hour, my thoughts are lost in astonishment : it is not 
for me, it is not for Paul or Apollos, it is not for th^ 
tongue of men or angels, to say which was greatest, 
the compassion or the severity. Humble adoration 
becomes us best, and a thankful acceptance of the par- 
don that was purchased at so dear a rate. 

Next to this, I know not a more eminent display of 
terror and mercy, than the dying hour of a pious but 
desponding Christian, under the tumultuous and dis= 
quieting temptations of the devil. 

See withm those curtains a person of faith and 

serious piety, but of a melancholy constitution, and 

expecting death. While his flesh is tortured with sharp 

agonies, and terribly convulsedj a ghastly horrgr sits on 

H h 



362 IMPROVEMENT 

his countenance, and he groans under extreme anguish. 
Behold the man, a lavourite of heaven, a child of Hght, 
assaulted with the darts of hell, and his soul surrounded 
xvith thick darkness : all his sins stand in dreadful array 
before him, and threaten him with the execution of ail 
the curses in the Bihle. Thougli he loves God with all 
liis heart, he is in the dark, he knows it not, nor can he 
believe that God has any love for him ; and though he 
cannot utterly let go his hold of his Saviour and the 
gospel, yet in his own apprehension he is abandoned 
both of the Father and the Son. In every new pang 
that he feels, his own fears persuade him, that the 
gates of hell are now opening upon him, he hangs ho- 
vering over the burning pit, and at the last gasp of life, 
when he seems to be sinking into eternal death, he 
quits the body with all its sad circumstances, and feels 
himself safe in the arms of his Saviour, and in the 
pre:^er)ce of his God. 

What amazing transport ! What agreeable siu-prise ! 
not to be utt^ired by the words of our scanty mortal 
l;ingurn!;e, nor conceived but by the person who feels it. 
The body indeed %vhich was the habitation of so pious 
a spirit, is demolished at once : behold the lifeless car- 
case ; it makes haste to putrefaction. — The released 
soul, in ecstacy, feels and surveys its own happiness, 
appears before the throne, is acknowledged there as 
one of the sons of God, and invested with the glories 
of the upper world. Sorrows and sins, guilt, fetters 
and darkness vanish for ever: It exults in liberty and 
light, and dsvells for ever under the smiles of God. 

What was it could provoke the wise and gracious 
God to permit the wicked spirit to vex one of his own 
children at tills rate, and to deal so severely with the 
man whom he loves ? To expose that soul to exquisite 
anguish in the ilesh which he designed the same day to 
make a partner with blessed spirits ! To express in one 
hour so much terror and so much mercy ? 

St. Paul will give a short and plain answer to thi?! 
inquiry. Rom. viii. 10: '' The body is dead because of 
sin. but the snirit is life because of righteousness. Hence 
that anguisn, those agonies and convulsions in the 
sinful flesh that must die, and these will be felt in some 
measure by the partner spirit ; though that spirit being 



OF THE M1N0. S6& 

vested with divine righteousness, or justified in the 
sight of God, shall survive these agonies in a peaceful 
immortality. Though the sufferings of the son of God 
have redeemed it from an everlasting hell, jet it be- 
comes the oftended majesty of heaven sometimes to 
give sensible instances what misery the pardoned 
sinner has deserved ; and the moment, he receives 6im 
into full blessedness may, on some accounts, be the 
fittest to make a display of all his terror, that the soul 
may have the full taste of felicitj^, and pay ihe highest 
houours to recovering grace. The demolition of the 
earthly tabernacle with all the pangs and the groans 
that attend it, are a shadow of that vengeance which 
was due even to the best of saints ; it is fit we should 
see the picture of vindictive justice before we are taken 
into the arms of eternal mercy. 

Besides, there may be another reason that renders 
the dying hour of this man more dreadful too : Perhaps 
he had walked un watchfully before God, and had 
given too much indulgence to some congenical iniquity, 
some vice that easily beset him ; new it becomes the 
great God to write his own hatred of sin in deep and 
piercing characters, sometimes on his rwn children, 
that he may let the world know that he is of purer eyes 
than to behold iniquity any where without resentment. 
The man had " built much hay and stubble upon the 
divine foundation of Christ Jesus, and it was proper 
that he should be saved so as by fire :" 1 Cor. iii. 15. 

Will the Papist therefore attempt to support the 
structure of his pUrgatory upon such a text as this ? 
An useless structure, and a vain atten pt ! That place 
was erected by the superstitious fancy of men, to purge 
out the sins of a dead man by his own sufferings, and to 
make him fit for heaven in times hereafter ; as though 
the atoning blood of Christ were not sufficient for 
complete pardon, or the sanctifying work of the Spirit 
were imperfect even after death. Whereas the design 
of God in some such instances of terror is chiefly to 
give now and then an example to survivors in this life, 
how highly he is displeased with sin, and to discourage 
his own people from an indulgence of the works of 
the flesh. Now this end could not be attained by all 
the pains of their pretended purgatory, even though it 



364 IMPROVEMENT 

were a real place of torment, because it is so invisible 
and unknown. 

But whatsoever sorrows the dying Christian sustains 
in the wise administration of Providence, it is by no 
jneans to make compensation to God for sin ; the ato- 
ning work of Christ is complete still, and the sanctify- 
ing work of the Spirit perfect as soon as the soul is 
dismissed from earth ; therefore it has an entrance into 
full blessedness, such as becomes a God infinite in 
mercy to bestow on a penitent sinner, presented before 
the throne in the name and r'ghteousness of his own 
Son. "W^e are complete in him :^^ Col. ii. 10. By him 
made perfectly acceptable to God at our death, we are 
filled with all grace, and introduced into complete glory. 

II. Death of a Young Son. In a Letter to a Fi-iend. 

IVlADAM, it has been the delight and practice of the 
pious in all ages to talk iu the words of scripture, and 
in the language of their God ; the images of that book 
are bright and beautiful; and where they happily cor- 
respond with ;my present providence, there is a certain 
divine pleasure in the parallel. The Jews have ever 
ust'd it as a fashionable style, and it has always been 
the custom of Christians in the most religious times 
till iniquity and profaneness called it cant and fanati- 
cism. Tile Evangelists and the Apostles ha<ve justified 
the practice ; those later inspired authors have often 
indulged it. even where the Prophet, or first writer of 
the text, had quite another subject in view ; and though 
an allusion to the words of scripture will by no means 
stand iri the place of a proper exposition, yet it carries 
something divine and effecting in it ; and by this means 
it may shine in a sermon or a familiar epistle, and 
makes a pleasing similitude. Accept then a few hints 
of consolation from a part of scripture, which, by an 
easy turn of thought, may be applied to your case. 

Rev. xii. 1. "A woman clothed with the sun, and 
the moon under her feet ; v. 2. Being with child, 
travailed in birth ; v. 5. And she brought forth a man- 
child, and it was caught up to God and his throne ; v. 6. 
And the woman had a place prepared of God in thft 
wilderness ; v. 14. To be nourished for a time and 



OF THE MTND. 365 

times ; v. 9. But the great dragon that was cast out 
of heaven, the old serpent called the devil and Satan,. 
V. 13, Persecuted the woman; v. 15. And cast out of 
his mouth v/ater as a flood, v. 17. And went to make 
war with the remnant of her seed." 
Thus far the words of scripture. — 
Now, Madam, if you have put on Christ, and are 
dothed by faith with the Sun of Righteousness; if 
you are drestin the shining graces of heaven, and have 
the pale and changing glories of this world under your 
feet ; then you may be assured that the child you have 
brought forth is not lost, but is caught up to God and 
his throne by virtue of that extensive covenant which 
includes sincere Christians and their offspring together. 
Mourn not therefore for»your son, who is with God, 
but rather for yourself, who are yet in the wilderness of 
this world, where the old serpent has so much power; 
where he will persecute you with the flood of his temp- 
tations, if possible to carry you away with them : But 
I trust God has prepared a place for your safety, even 
his church, his gospel, and his own everlasting arms. 

Yet shall the serpent make war with the remnant of 
your seed ; your little daughter that remains in the 
wilderness must go through this war, and be exposed 
to these temptations. O turn your tears for your son 
into pity and prayer for yourself and your daughter, 
that ye may never be carried away by these floods ; 
but when the times are past which God has appointed 
for your abode and nourishment in the wilderness, you 
may rejoice to find yourself with < 11 your offspring in 
everlasting safety before the throne of God. Amen. 
So prays your affectionate, &:c» 
May ^,17 id, 1. W. 



III. Hecdhen Poesy Christianized. 17S6. 

XT is a piece of ancient and sacred history which Moses 
informs us of, that when the tribes of Israel departed 
from the land of Egypt, they borrowed of their neigh- 
bours gold and jewels, by the appointment of God, for 
the decoration of their sacrifices and solemn worship, 
when they should arrive at the appointed place in the 
H h 2 ' 



366 IMPROVEMENT 

wilderness. God himself taught his people how the 
richest of metals which had ever been abused to the 
worship of idols, might be purified by the fire, and being 
melted up into a new form, might be consecrated to 
the service of the living God, and add to the magnifi- 
cence and grandeur of his tabernacle and temple. 
Such are some of the poetical writings of the ancient 
Heathens ; they have a great deal of native beauty arid 
lustre in them ; and through some happy turn given 
them by the pen of a Christian poet, may be transfor- 
med into divine meditations, ana may assist the devout 
and pious soul in several parts of the Christian life and 
worship. 

Amongst all the rest of the Pagan writers I know 
none so fit for this service as the Odes of Horace, as 
Tile a sinner as he was. Their manner of composure 
comes nearer the spirit and force of the Psalms of David 
than any other ; and as we take the devotions of the 
Jewish King, and bring them into our Christian church- 
es, by changing the scene and the chronology, and 
superadding some of the glories of the gospel, so may 
the representation ofsomeof the heathen virtues, by a 
little more labour, be changed into Christian graces, or 
at least into the image of them, so far as human power 
can reach. One day musing on this subject, 1 made an 
experiment on the two last stanzas of Ode 29, Book HI. 

J^on meum est, si mugiat Africis 
Malusprocellis, ad miser as preces 
Decurere, et voiis jiacisci-, 
JVe CypricB Tyri(zque merces 
Jiddant avaro divitias mari. 
Tunc me biremis prasidio scaphcE, 
Tutum per JEgeos tumult us 
Aura feret, geminusque Pollux. 

IV The British Fisherman. 

Let Spain's proud traders when the mast 
Bends groaning to Ihe stormy blast, 
Run to their beads with wretched plaints,. 
And vow and bargain with their saints. 
Lest Turkish silks or Tyran wares 
Sink in the drowning ship ; 



OF THE MIND. SG7 

Or the rich dust Peru prepares 
Defraud their long projection cares, 
And add new treasures to the greedy deep. 

II. 

My little skiff that skims the shores. 

With half a sail and two short oars, 

Provides me food in gentler waves : 

But if they gape in watery graves, 

I trust the eternal power, whose hand 
Has swell'd the storm so high, 
To waft my boat and me to land, 
Or give some angel swift command 

To bear the drowning sailor to the sky, 

V. Redemption. 

I. 

THE mighty frame of glorious grace, 
That brightest monument of praise 
That e're the God of love design'd, 
Employs and fills my labouring mind. 

If. 

Begin, my muse, the heav'uly song, 
A burden for an angel's tongue : 
When Gabriel sounds these awful IhingS; 
He tunes and summons all his strings. 

III. 

Proclaim inimitable love : 
Jesus, the Lord of worlds above, 
Puts off the beams of bright array, 
And veils the God in mortal clay. 

IV. 

What black reproach defil'd his name, 
When with our sin he took our shame ! 
The power whom kneeling angels blest, 
Is made the impious rabble's jest. 

V. 
He that distributes crowns and thrones, 
Hangs on a tree, and bleeds and groan.s ; 



368 IMPROVEMENI^ 

The Prince of life resigus his breath. 
The king of glory bows to death. 

VI. 

But see the woiiders of his pow'r, 
He (riuniphs in his dying hour ; 
And whilst by Satan's rao;e he fell, 
He dash'd the rising hopes of hell. 

VII. 
Thus were the hosts of death subdu'd, 
And sin was drown'd in Jesus' blood ; 
Then he arose, and reigns above, 
And conquers sinners by his love. 

If I could pursue all the wondrous achievements of a dy- 
ing and a rising Saviour in verse, as fast and as far as my 
thoughts sometinjes attempt to trace then); I should lengthen 
this Ode to manv stanzas, and yet at last 1 should lose both 
my thoughts and my verse amongst the unknown wonder'' 
of his glory, and the ages of eternity. 

Who shall fulfil this boundless song ? 

What vain pretender dares .'' 
The theme surmounts an angel's tongue- 

And Gabriel's harp despairs.* 



VI . — Complaint and Hope under great Pain . 1 73(>. 

I. 
LORD, I am pain'd ; but I resign 

To thy superior will : 
'Tis grace, 'tis wisdom all divine 

Appoints the pains I leel. 

IT. 

Dark are thy ways of providence, 
W*hiist those that love thee groan : 

■'• In this Ode tliere are three or four lines taken from Mr. Stonnet's 
Saci-amentai Hymns -, for when I found they expressed my thougJjt and 
design in proper and beautiful language, I chose raiher to borrow and 
acknowledge the debt, than to labour hard for worse lines, that 1 might 
iiave the poor pleasure of calling them my own. 



t)F THE MIND. SCO 

Tby reasons He conceal'd from sense; 
Mysterious and unknown. 

III. 

Yet nature may have leave to speak, 

And plead before her God, 
Lest the o'erburden'd heart should bre«k 

Beneath thy heavy rod. 

IV. 

Will nothing but such daily pain 

Secure my soul from hell ? 
Canst thou not make my health attain 

Thy kind designs as well .? 

V. 

How shall my tongue proclaim thy grace 

While thus at home confin'd .'' 
What can I write, while painful flesh 

Hangs heavy on the mind ? 

VI. 

These groans, and sighs, and flowing tears ; 

Give my poor spirit ease, 
While every groan my father hears, 

And ev'ry tear he sees. 

VJI. 
Is not some smiling hour at hand, 

With peace upon its wings ? 
Give it, God ! thy swift cGmmand, 

With all the joys it brings. 



VII. — On an Elegy writttnhy the Right Honeurable the Conn: 
ttss of Hertford, on the Death of Mrs. Roxve. 1737. 

STRUCK with the sight of Philomela's urn, 
Eusebia weeps, and calls her muse to mourn ,; 
While from her lips the tuneful sorrows felL 
The groves confess a rising Philomel. 



870 LMPROVEMENf 

VIII. — Dr. Young's admirable Description of the Peacock, en- 
larged. 

VIEW next the Peacock : What bright glories run 
From plume to plume, and vary in the sun ? 
Proudly he boasts, then to the heavenly ray, 
Gives all his colours, and adorns the day. 
Was it thy pencil, Job, divinely bold, 
Drest his rich form in azure, green, and gold ? 
Thy hand his crest with starry radiance crown'd, ) 

Or spread his sweepy irain ? His train disdains the ground, / 
And kindles living lamps through all the spacious round. ; 
Mark with what conscious state the bird displays 
His native gems, and 'midst the waving blaze 
On the slow step of majesty he moves, 
Asserts his honours, and demands his loves. 



IX. Vanity inscribed on all Tilings. 

X IME, like a long flowing stream, makes haste into 
eternity and is for ever lost and swallowed up there ; and, 
while it is hastening to its period, it sweeps away all 
things with it which are not immortal. There is a limit 
appoi.ited by Providence to the duration of all the plea- 
sant and desirable scenes of life, to all the works of'the 
hands of men, with all the glories and excellencies of 
animal nature, and all that is made of flesh and blood. 
Let us not doat upon any thing here below, for heaven 
hath inscribed vanity upon it. The moment is hasten- 
ing when the decree of heaven shall be uttered, and Pro- 
vidence shall pronounce upon every glory of the earth, 
" Its time shall be no longer^ 

What is that stately building, that princely palace, 
■which now entertains and amuses our sight with ranks 
of marble columns, and wide spreading arches, that gay 
edifice which enriches our imagination with a thousand 
royal ornaments, and a profusion of costly and glit- 
tering furniture ? Time and all its circling hours, with 
a swift wing are brushing away : decay steals upon it 
insensibljr, and a few years hence it shall lie in moul- 
dering ruin and desolation. Unhappy possessor, if he 
have no better inheritance I 



OF THE MIND. 371 

What are those fine and elegant gardens, those delight- 
ful walks, those gentle ascents and soft declining hopes, 
which raise and sink the eye by turns to a thousand 
vegetable pleasures ? How lovely are those sweet bor- 
ders, and those growing varieties of bloom and fruitj 
which recal lost paradise to mind ! Those lovely par- 
terres which regale the sense with vital fragrancy, and 
make glad the sight by their refreshing verdure and 
intermingled flowery beauties! The scythe of time is 
passing over them all ; they wither, they die away, 
they drop and vanish into duvst ; their duration is short ; 
a few months deface all their yearly glories, and with- 
in a few years, perhaps all these rising terras walks, these 
gentle verging declivities, shall lose all order and ele- 
gance, and become a rugged heap of ruins ; those well 
distinguished borders and parterres shall be levelled in 
confusion, and^thrown into common earth again, for the 
ox and the ass to graze upon. Unhappy man, who 
possesses this agreeable spot of ground, if he have no 
paradise more durable than this-! 

And no wonder that these labours of the hands of 
men should perish, when even the works of God are 
perishable ! 

. What are the^e visible heavens, those lower skies, 
and this globe of the earth ? They are indeed the glori- 
ous workmanship of the Almighty. But they are wax- 
ing old, and waiting their perioi too, when the angel 
shall pronounce upon them that time shall be no more. 
The heavens shall be folded up as a vesture, the ele- 
ments of the lower world shall melt with a fervent heat, 
and the earth, and ail the works thereof, shall be burnt 
with fire. May the unruinable world be but my por- 
tion, and the heaven of heavens my inheritance, which 
is built for an eternal mansion for the sons of God: 
These buildings shall outlive time and nature, and ex- 
ist through unknown ages of felicity ! 

What have we mortals to be proud of in our present 
state, when every human glory is so fugitive and fad- 
i ng ? Let the brightest and the best of us say to ourselves, 
that we are but dust and vanity. 

Is m)'- body formed upon a graceful model ? Are my 
limbs well turned, and ray complexion better coloured 
than my neighbour!s ? Beauty even in perfection, is of 



37)2 IMPROVEMENT 

the shortest date : A few years will inform me that 'lis 
bloom vanishes, its flower withers, its lustre grows 
dim, its duration shall be no longer ; and, if life be 
prolonged, yet the pride and glory of it is for ever lost 
in age and wrinkles ; or perhaps our vanity meets a 
speedier fate. Death and the grave, with a sovereign 
and irresistible command, summon the brightest as 
well as the coarset pieces of human nature, to lie down 
early in their cold embraces ; and at last they must all 
mix together, amongst worms and corruption. 

^sop the deformed, and Helena the fair, are lost and 
imdistinguished in common earth. Nature, in its gaj'- 
est bloom, is but a painted vanity. 

Are my nerves Avell strung and vigorous ? Is my ac- 
tivity and strength far superior to my neighbour's in the 
days of youth ? But youth hath its appointed limit: age 
steals upon it, unstrings the nerves, and makes the force 
of nature languish into infirmity and feebleness. Samp- 
son and Goliath would have lost their boasted advan- 
tages of stature and their braAvny limbs, in the course 
of half a century, though the one had esc<'>ped the sling 
of David, and the other the vengance of his own hands 
in the ruin of Dagon's temple. Man, in his best estate, 
is a flying shadow, and vanity. 

Even those nobler powers of human life, which seem 
to have something angelical in them, I mean the powers 
of wit and fancy, ga]/^ imagination, and capacious mem- 
ory, they are all subject to the same laws of decay and 
death. What though they can raise and animate beau- 
tiful scenes in a moment, and, in imitation of creating 
power, can spread bright appearances and new worlds 
before the senses and the souls of their friends ? What 
though they can entertain the better part of mankind, 
the refined and polite world, with high delight and rap- 
ture ? These scenes of rapturous delight grow flat and 
old by a frequent review, and the very powers that 
raised them grow feeble apace. What though they can 
raise immortal applause and fame to their possessors ? 
It is but the immortality of an empty name, a mere 
succession of the breath of men, and it is a short sort 
of immortality too, which must die and perish when 
this world perishes. A poor shadow of duration in- 
deed, while the real period of these powers is hastening 



OF THE MIND. 373 

every day ; they languish and die as fast as animal na- 
ture, which has a large share in them, makes haste to its 
decay ; and the time of their exercise shall shortly be 
no more. 

In vain the aged poet or the painter would call up the 
muse and genius of their youth, and summon all the arts 
of their imagination, to spread and dress out some vis- 
ionary scene ; in vain the elegant orator would recal the 
bold and masterly figures, and all those flowery images 
which give ardour, grace, and dignity to his younger 
composures, and charmed every ear ; they are gone, 
they are fled beyond the reach of the owner's call ; their 
time is past, they are vanished and lost beyond all hope 
of recovery. 

The God of nature has pronounced an impassable pe- 
riod upon all the powers, and pleasures, and glories of 
this mortal state. Let us then be afraid to make any of 
them our boast or our happiness, but point our affec- 
tions to those diviner objects, whose nature is everlast- 
ing ; let us seek those religious attainments, and those 
new created powers of a sanctified mind, concerning 
which it shall never be pronounced, that their time shall 
be no longer. 

O msLj every one of us be humbly content at the call 
of heaven, to part with all that is pleasing or magnificent 
here on earth ; let us resign even these agreeable tal- 
ents when the God of nature demands ; and when the 
hour arrives that shall close our eyes to all visible things, 
and lay our fleshly structure in the dust, let us yield up 
our whole selves to the hands of our Creator, who shall 
reserve our spirits with himself; and while we cheerful- 
ly give up all that was mortal to the grave, we may lie 
down full of the joyful hope of a rising immortality. 
New and unlvnown powers and glories, brighter flames 
of imagination, richer scenes of wit and fancy, and di- 
viner talents are preparing for us when we shall awake 
from the dust, and the mind itself, shall have its faculties 
in a sublime state of improvement. These shall make 
us equal, if not isuperior to angels, for we arc nearer 
akin to the Son of God than they are, and thprefore we 
shall be made more like. him. 
I i 



374 IMPROVEMENT 

X. The rake reformed in the House of Mournin^i 

£ LORINO was young and idle ; he gave himself up 
to all the diversions of the town, and roved wild among 
the pleasures of sense ; nor did he confine himself with- 
in the limits of virtue, or withhold his heart from any 
forbidden joy. Often hath he been heard to ridicule 
marriage, and affirm that no man can mourn heartily 
for a dead wife ; for then he hath leave by the law to 
choose a new companion, to riot in all the gayer scenes 
of a new courtship, and perhaps to advance his for- 
tune too. 

When he heard of the death of Serena, " Well, said 
he, " I will ^o visit my friend Lucius, and rally him a 
little on this occasion." He went the next day, in all 
the wantonness of his heart, to fulfil his design, inhu- 
man and barbarous as it was, and to sport with solemn 
sorrow. But when Lucius appeared, the man of gaiety 
was strangely surprised ; he saw such a sincere and in- 
imitable distress sitting on his countenance, and discov- 
ering itself in every air and action, that he dropt his 
cruel purpose, his soul began to melt, and he assumed 
the comforter. 

Florino's methods of consolation were all drawn from 
two topics : some from fate and necessity, advising an 
heroic indolence about unavoidable events, which arc 
past and cannot be reversed ; and some were derived 
from the various amusements of life which call the soul 
abroad, and divide and scatter the thoughts, and suffer 
not the mind to attend to its inward anguish. " Come, 
Lucius," said he, " come, smooth your brows a little, 
and brighten up for an hour or two. Come along with 
me to a concert this evening, where you shall hear 
some of the best pieces of music that were ever com- 
posed, and performed by some of the best hands that 
ever touched an instrument. To-morrow I will wait on 
you to the play, or if you please to the new opera, where 
the scenes are so surprising and gay, they would almost 
tempt an old hermit from his beloved cell, and call 
back his years to three-and-twenty. Come, my friend, 
what have the living to do with the dead ? Do but 
forget your grievances a little, and they will die too ; 
tome, shake off the spleen, divert your heart with 



OF THE MIND. 875 

the entertainments of wit and melody, and call away 
3rour fancy from these gloomy and useless contempla- 
tions." Thus he ran on in his own way of talking, and 
opened to his mourning friend the best springs of com- 
fort that he was acquainted with. 

Lucius endured this prattle as long as he was able to 
endure it, but it had no manner of influence to staunch 
the bleeding wound, or to abate his smarting sorrows. 
His pain waxed more intense by such sort of applica- 
tions, and the grief soon grew too unruly to contain 
itself. 

Lucius then asked leave to retire a little : Florino fol- 
lowed him softly at a distance to the door of his closet, 
■where indeed he observed not any of the rules of civil- 
ity or just decency, butplaced himself near enough to lis- 
ten how the passion took its vent ; and there he heard 
the distressed Lucius mourning over Serena's death in 
such language as this : 

What did Florino talk about ? Necessity and Fate ? 
Alas ! this is my misery, that so painful an event cannot 
be reversed, that the divine will has made it fate, there 
is a necessity of my enduring it. 

Plays, and music, and operas ! What poor trifles arc 
these to give ease to a wounded heart ! To a heart that 
has lost its choicest half! A heart that lies bleeding in 
deep anguish under such a keen parting stroke, and the 

long, long absence of my Serena ! She is gone. The 

desire of mine eyes and the delight of my soul is gone. 
The first of earthly comforts, and the best of mor- 
tal blessings. She is gone, and she has taken with 

her all that was pleasant, all that could brighten the 
gloomy hours of life, that could soften the cares, and 
relieve the burdens of it. — She is gone, and the best 
portion and joy of my life is departed. Will she never 
return, never come back and bless my eyes again ? No — 
never, never ! — She will no more come back to visit this 
wretched world, and to dry these weeping eyes. That 
best portion of my life, that dearest blessing is gone, 
and will return no more, Sorrows in long succession 
await me while I live ; all my future days are marked 
out for grief and darkness ! Let the man who feels no 
inward pain at the loss of such a partner, dress his 
dwelling in black shades and dismal formalities : Let 



576 IMPROVEMENT 

him draw the curtains of darkness around him, and 
teach his chambers a fashionable mourning ; but real 
anguish of heart needs none of these modish and dis- 
sembled sorrows. My soul is hung round wirh dark 
images in all her apartments, and every scene is sincere 
lamentation and death. 

1 thought once 1 had some pretences to the courage 
of a man : but this is a season of untried distress : — I 
now shudder at a thought, 1 start at shadows, my 
spirits are sunk, and horror has taken hold of me. I 
feel passions in me that were unknown before ; love 
has Its own proper grief and its peculiar anguish. 
Mourning love has those agonies and those sinkings of 
spirit which are known only to bereaved and virtuous 
lovers. 

I stalk about like a ghost, in musing silence, till "the 
gathering sorrow grows too big for the heart, and bursts 
out into Aveak and unmanly wailings. Strange and 
overwhelming stroke indeed ! It has melted all the 
man within me down to softness ; my nature is gone 
back to childhood again ; I would maintain the dignity 
of my age and my sex, but these eyes rebel and betray 
me ; the eyelids are full, they overflow ;~the drops of 
love and grief tiickle down my cheeks, and plough the 
furrows of age there before their time. 

How often in a day are those sluices opened afresh ! 
The sight of every friend that knew her calls up my 
weakness, and betrays my frailty. I am quite ash;im- 
ed of myself. "What shall I do ? Is there nothing of 
manhood left about my heart? I will resist the passion, 
I will struggle with nature, I will grow indolent and 
forbid my tears. Alas ! poor feeble wretch that I 
am ! in vain I struggle ; in vain 1 resist: Tive assumed 
indolence vanishes : the real passion works within, it 
swells and bears down all before it : the torrent rises 
and prevails hourly, and nature will have its way. 
Even the Son of God, when he became man, was 
found weeping at the tomb of a darling friend. Laza- 
rus died I and Jesus wept ! 

O my soul, what shall I do to relieve this heart-ache 
How shall I cure this painful sensibility ? Is there no 
opiate will reach it.^ Whither shall I go to leave mj 
sorrows behind me ? I wander from one room to an^ 



OF THE MIND. 377 

other, and wherever I go I still seem to seek her, but 
I miss her still. My imagination flatters me with her 
lovely image, and tempts me to doubt, is she dead 
indeed ? My fond imagination would fain forget her 
death-bed, and impose upon my hope that I shall find 
her somewhere. I visit her apartment, I steal into her 
closet : In days past when I have missed her in the 
parlour, how often have I found the dear creature in 
thatheloved corner of the house, that sweet place of 
divine retirement and converse with heaven ! But 
even that closet is empty now. I go thither, and I 
retire in disappointment and confusion. 

Methinks I should meet her in some of her walks, 
in some of her family cares, or her innocent amuse- 
ments : I should see her face, methinks I should hear 

her voice, and exchange a tender word or two. 

Ah, foolish rovings of a distressed or disquieted fancy ! 
jEvery room is empty and silent ; closet, parlours, 
chambers, all empty, all silent ; and that very silence 
and emptiness proclaim my sorrows : Even emptiness 
and deep silence join to confess the painful loss. 

Shall 1 try then to put her quite out of my thoughts, 
since she will come no more within the reach of my 
senses ? Shall I loosen the fair picture, and drop it from 
my heart, since the fairer original is for ever gone ? Go, 
then, fair picture, go from my bosom, and appear to my 
soul no more. Hard word ! but it must be done : Go, 
depart thou dearest form ; thou most lovely of images, 
go from my heart ; thy presence is now too painful in 
that tender part of me. O unhappy word ! Thy 
presence painful ! A dismal change indeed ! When 
thou wert wont to arise and show thyself there, graces 
and joys were wont to arise and show themselves ; 
graces and joys went always with her ; nor did her 
image ever appear without them, till that dark and 
bitter day that spread the vail of death over h«r : But 
her image, drest in that gloomy vail, hath lost all the 
attendant joys and graces. Let her picture vanish 
from my soul then, since it has lost those endearing 
attendants ; let it vanish away into forgetfulness, for 
death has robbed it of every grace and every joy. 

Yet stay a little there, tempting image, let' me once 
more survey thee ; stay a little moment, and let m© 
lis 



378 IMPROVEMENT 

take one last glance, one solemn farewell. Is there not 
something in the resemblance of her too lovely still to 
have it quite banished from my heart ? Can 1 set my 
soul at work to try to forget her ? Can I deal so un- 
kindly with one who Avould never have forgotten me? 
Can my soul live without her image on it ? Is it not 
stamped there too deep ever to be effaced ? 

Metbinks 1 feel all my heartstrings wrapt around her, 
and groAv so fast to that dear picture in my fanc^, they 
seem to be rooted thore. To be divided from it is to 
die. Why should I then pusue so vain and fruitless 
an attempt? AVhat ! forget myself, forget my life! 
IVo ; it cannot be ; nor can I bear to think of such a 
rude and cruel treatment of an image so much deserv- 
ing and so much beloved. — Neither passion nor reason 
permits me to forget her, nor is it within my power. 
She is present to almost all my thoughts ; she is with 
me in all my motions : grief has arrows with her name 
upon them that stick as fast and as deep as those of 
love ; they cleave to my vitals wheresoever I go, but 
with a quicker sensation and a keener pain. Alas ! it is 
love and grief together that have shot all their arrows 
into my hf^art, and filled every vein with acute anguish 
and long distress. 

Whither then shall I fly to find solace and ease ? I can- 
not depart from myself ; I cannot abandon these ten- 
der and smarting sensations. Shall I quit the house 
and all the apartments of it which renew her dear 
memory ? Shall 1 rove in these open fields which lie 
near my dAvelling, and spread wide their pleasing 
verdure ? Shall I give my soul a loose to all nature 
that smiles around me, or shnll I confine my daily 
walk to this shady and delightful garden ? Oh, no : 
neither of these will relieve my anguish. Serena has 
too often blessed me with her company, both in this 
garden, and in these fields. Her very name seems 
written on every tree : 1 shall think of her, and fancy 
I see her in every step I take. Here she pressed the 
;i;rass with her feet ; here she gathered violets and roses 
and refreshing herbs, and gave the lovely collection of 
sweetness into my hand. But, alas ! the sweetest 
violet and the fairest rose is fallen, is withered, and is 
no more. Farewell then, ye fields and gardens, with 



6F THE MIND. 573 

all your varieties of green and flowery joys ! Ye are all a 
desert, a barren wilderness, since Serena has for ever 
left you, and will be seen there no more. 

But can friends do nothing to comfort a mourner ? 
Come, my wise friends, surround me, and divert my 
cares with your agreeable conversation. Can books 
afford no relief ? Come, my books, ye volumes of 
knowledge, ye labours of the learned dead ; come, fill 
up my hours with some soothing amusement. I call 
my better friends about me. I fly to the heroes and 
the philosophers of ancient ages, to employ my soul 
among ihem. But, alas ! neither learning nor books 
amuse me, nor green and smiling prospects of nature 
delight me, nor convereation with my wisest and best 
friends can entertain me in these dark and melancholy 
hours. Solitude, solitude, in some unseen corner, 
some lonely grotto overgrown with shades ; this is my 
dearest choice ! Let me dwell in my beloved solitude, 
where none shall come near me ; midnight and soli- 
tude are the most pleasing things to a man who is 
weary of day-light, and of all the scenes of this visible 
and busy world. I would eat and drink and dwell 
alone ; though this lonesome humour soothes and 
gratifies the painful passion, and gives me up to the 
tyranny of my sharpest sorrows. Strange mixture 
that I am made of ! 1 mourn and grieve even to death, 
and yet f seem fond of nothing but grief and mourning. 

Wo is me ! Is there nothing on earth can divert, 
nothing relieve me ? Then let my thoughts ascend to 
paradise and heaven, there I shall find her better part ; 
and grief must not enter there. From this hour take 
a new turn, O my soul, and never think of Serena but 
as shining and rejoicing among the spirits of the blest, 
and in the presence of her God. Rise often in holy 
meditation to the celestial world, and betake thyself to 
more intense piety. Devotion has wings that will bear 
thee high above the tumults and passions of lower 
life : devotion will direct and speed thy flight to a 
country of brighter scenes. 

Shake off this earthliness of mind, this durt of 
mortality that hangs about thee ; rise upward often m 
an hour, and dwell much in those regions whither thy 
devout partner is gone : thy better half is safely arrived 



M9 IMPROVEMENT 

there, and that world knows nothing but joy and love. 
She is gone ; the prophets and the apostles and the 
best of departed souls have marked out her way to 
heaven : bear witness, ye apostles and holy prophets, 
ye best of departed souls, bear witness, that 1 am 
seeking to follow her in the appointed moment. Let 
the wheels of nature and time roll on apace in their 
destined way. Let suns and moons arise and set 
apace, and light a lonesome traveller onward to his 
home. Blessed Jesus, be thou my hving leader : 
Virtue and the track of Serena's feet be my daily and 
delightful path. The track leads upward to the regions 
of love and joy. How can I dare to wander from the 

Eath of virtue, lest I lose that beloved track ! Remem- 
er, () my soul, her footsteps are found in no other 
road ! 

If my love to virtue should ever fail me, the steps of 
my vSerena would mark out my way, and help to secure 
me from wandering. O may the kind influences of 
heaven descend from above, and establish and guard 
my pious resolutions ? May the divine powers of reli- 
gion be my continual strength, and the hope of eternal 
things my never-failing support, till I be dismissed from 
this prison of the flesh, and called to ascend to the spi- 
rits of the just made perfect : till I bid adieu to all that 
is not immortal, and go to dwell with my God and my 
adored Saviour: There shall I find my lost Serena again, 
and share with her the unutterable joys of paradise. 

Here Lucius threw himself on the couch, and lay 
silent in profound meditation. 

When Florino had heard all this mournful rhapsody 
he retired and stole away in secret, for he was now 
utterly ashamed of his first barbarous design : he felt a 
sort of strange sympathy of sorrow, such as he never 
knew before ; and with it some sparks of virtue began 
to kindle in his bosom. Ashe mused, the fire burnt 
within, and at last it made its way to his lips, and ven- 
ted itself: " Well (said he) I have learnt two excellent 
lessons to-day, and I hope I shall never forget them. 
There must be some vast and unknown pleasure in a 
virtuous love, beyond all the madness of wild and tran- 
sient amours ; otherwise, the loss of the object could 
never have wrought such deep and unfeigned wo ia 



OF THE MIND. 381 

a soul so firm and manly as that of Lucius. 1 begia 
now to believe what Milton sung ; — though I alway« 
read the lines before as mere poesy and fable. 

" Hail, wedded love, mysterious law, true source 

Of human offspring, sole propriety 

In paradise, of all things common else : 

By thee adulterous lust was drivn from men, 

Among the bestial herds to range ; by thee, 

Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure, 

Relations dear, and all the charities 

Of father, son, and brother, first were known : 

Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets. 

Here love his golden shafts employs, here lights 

His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, 

Reigns here and revels ; not in the bought smile 

Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendear'd. 

Casual amourg, mixt dance, or wanton mask. 

Or midnight ball, &c. 

" Blessed poet ! that could so happily unite love anS 
virtue, and draw so beautiful a scene of real felicity, 
which till this day I always thought was merely roman- 
tic and visionary ! Lucius has taught me to under- 
stand these lines, for he has felt them ; and methinks 
while I repeat them now, 1 feel a strange new sensa- 
tion. I am convinced the blind poet saw deeper into 
nature and truth than I could have imsgined. There is, 
there is such a thing as a union of virtuous souls, where 
happiness is only found. I find some glimmerings of 
fsacred light rising upon me, some unknown pantings 
within after such a partner and such a life. 

" Nor is the other lesson which I have learnt at all 
inferior to this ; but in truth it is of higher and more 
durable importance. I confess, since I was nineteen 
years old, I never thought virtue and religion had been 
good for any thing, but to tie up children from mischief, 
and frighten fools : but now I find, by the conduct of 
my friend Lucius, that as the sweetest and sincerest joys 
of life are derived from virtue, so the most distressing 
sorrows may find a just relief in religion and sincere 
piety. Hear me, tlwu almighty Maker of my frame, 
pity and assist a returning wanderer : and O may thy 



88£ IMPROVEMENT 

hand stamp these lessons upon my soul iu everlasting; 
characters !" 

XI. Thou hast received Gifts for Mc7i. Psa. Ixviii. 18. 

Jesus the Mediator emptied himself for our sakes,. 
when he descended to earth in order to die for us, andi 
by his death to subdue our enemies. Now the Father 
has filled him agjiin at his ascent into heaven with 
every glory and every blessing, with all authority and 
power to bestow blessings, graces, and glories on the 
sons of men. " It pleased the Father that in him all' 
fullness should dwell. All power in heaven and earth > 
was given into his hands." Col. i. 19. Matt, xxviii. 18. 
And when he received the power he distributed the 
blessings. See Acts ii. 33. Being by the right hand of 
God exalted, and having received of the Father the 
promise of the Holy Ghost, he hath shed forth this, 
which ye now see and hear. He hath shed abroad 
miracles and graces in abundance amongst the inhabi- 
tants of the lower world. 

The triumphs of majesty must have some mercy in 
them, and ensigns of victory must be interwoven with 
signal displays of bounty and grace. When he led 
captivity captive, he received gifts for men. Our con- 
quering'Redeemer was not so elevated with the pomp of 
his triumphs over the angels, his captive enemies, as to 
forget the captives that he released among the children 
of Adam. He received many donatives from his 
Father on high, to shower down among them upon his 
coronation day, that illustrious day, when " He that in 
righteousness had made war and conquered, received 
on his own head many crowns." Rev. xlx. 11,12. 

He that could take so much pleasure on earth in his 
labours of love, takes more delight in heaven in the 
distributions of grace. This is the sweetest part of his 
triumph, and the most visible among men, even the 
gifts of the Spirit, that he sent down after his ascen- 
sion. It was necessary that his grace should have some 
' share of the glory of that day. 

What was said of the great day of deliverance, when 
the Jews obtained victory over their designed murder- 
ers, may be applied with"^ honour to the day when our 



OF THE MIND. S8S 

liOrd ascended to heaven, and celebrated his triumph 
over the spirits of darkness. "This was a good day 
for Israel, for all the saints ; a day w hen Jesus rested from 
his enemies, and a month which was turned unto him 
from sorrow to joj^ and from mourning into a day of 
gladness. This was a day of receiving portions for his 
brethren, and of sending gifts to the poor." Esther 

ix. 22. , T T^ . 

Jesus our King is the Prince of power, and the Prince 
of peace ; he solemnized his victory with acts of mer- 
cy, and begun his reign with gifts of grace. He led 
Satan the arch traitor bound at his chariot wheels, and 
scattered donatives of pardon and life among the sons 
of Adam that had been seduced into the great rebellion. 

It is another pleasant meditation on this text, " That 
God the Father had not given away all his gifts to men, 
even when he gave them his only begotten Son ;" for 
since that time he hath given his Son more gifts to be 
distributed among them. Learn hence the unwearied 
love of God, the inexhausted stores of divine mercy. 
John iv. 10. Christ is called the gift of God. And 2 
Cor. ix. 15. The unspeakable gift. He gave his own. 
Son out of his bosom, and gave him up to death for us. 
His Son that was nearest his heart, his Son the delight 
of his soul and dariing of his eternal enjoyment; and 
yet he is not weary of giving. O the imnneasurable 
treasures of grace! O the unlimited bounties of our 
God ! Stand amazed, O heavens, and let the earth lie 
low in thankfulness and wonder, and every holy soul 
adore this surprising love ! 

Our meditations may take another step, and see here 
the divine condescension to human weakness : how a 
giving God stoops to the capacity of receiving creatures, 
and betows the richest blessings on us in a sweet and 
alluring manner of conveyance. When he gave his 
Son to us, he first arrayed him in flesh and blood, that 
the glories of the Deity might not affright us, nor his 
terror make us afraid. When he proceeds to confer on 
us further gifts, he puts them into the hands of his Son, 
dwelling in our nature, that we might have easy access 
to him without fear, and receive gifts from him as a de- 
lightful medium, by whom a God of infinite purity hath 
a mind to confer favours on sinful man. 



384 IMPROVEMENT 

He has put all grace into those hands whence we 
ourselves would choose to fetch it. If a God of shining 
holiness and burning justice should appear like himself 
and call to as guilty wretches, and hold forth his hand, 
here are gifts, here are pardons, here are salvations for 
you, we should be ready to say with Job xiii. 21. 
" Withdraw thine hand far from me, and let not thy 
dread make me afraid." But here we sinners come to 
a man, to one that has worn our flesh and blood, that 
is our brother, and of our own composition ; we come 
with courage to him that looks like one of us, to receive 
the gifts of a holy God, and the terrors of his holiness 
sink us not, nor doth the fire of his justice devour us. 
O ray soul, bow down and worship tliatGod who stoops 
so low to thee, and has found such a mild and gentle 
method of conferring his heavenly favours on thee ! J 

XII. The Gift of the Spirit. ^ 

fV HAT is dearer to God the Father than his only 
Son ? And what diviner blessing has he to bestow up- 
on men than his holy Spirit ? Yet has he given his Son 
for us, and by the hands of his Son he confers his bles- 
sed Spirit on us. "Jesus having received of the Fa- 
ther the promise of the Spirit, shed it forth on men." 
Acts ii. S3. 

How the wonderous doctrine of the blessed Trinity 
shines through the whole of our religion, and sheds a 
glory upon every part of it ! Here is God the Father, a 
king of infinite riches and glory has constituted his be- 
loved Son the high treasurer of heaven, and the holy 
Spirit is the divine and inestimable treasure. What 
amazing doctrines of sacred love are written in our 
Bibles! What mysteries of mercy, Avhat miracles of 
glory are these ! Our boldest desires and most raised 
hopes, durst never aim at such blessings ; there is noth- 
ing in all nature that can lead us to a thought of such 
grace. 

The Spirit was given by the Father to the Son for 
men ; for rebellious and sinful men, to make favourites 
and saints of them : this was the noble gift the Son 
received when he ascended on high," Psa. Ixviii. 18. 
And he distributed it to grace his triumph. 



OF THE MIND. 1$85 

Was it not a divine honour which Jesus our Lord 
displayed on that day, when the tongues of fire sat on 
his twelve apostles? When he sent his ambassadors to 
every nation to address them in their own language, to 
notify his accession to the throne of heaven, and to 
demand subjection to his government ? When he con- 
ferred power upon his envoys to reverse the laws of 
nature and imitate creation ? To give eyes to the blind, 
and to raise the dead ? All this was done by the Spirit 
which he sent down upon them in ,the days of Pen- 
tecost. 

But is this Spirit given to none but his apostles and 
the prime ministers in his kingdom? Was that rich treas- 
ure exhausted in the first ages of the gospel, and none 
left for us ? God forbid ! Every one of his subjects has 
the same favour bestowed upon them, though not in the 
same degree : every humble and holy soul in our day, 
every true C hristian is possessed of his Spirit, for " he that 
has not the Spirit of Christ is none of his." Rom. viii. 
9. And wherever this Spirit is, it works miracles too : 
it changes the sinner to a saint, it opens bis blind eyes ; 
it new creates his nature ; it raises the dead to a divine 
life, and teaches Egypt and Assyria and the British 
isles to speak the language of Canaan, It is this gift of 
the Spirit which the Son sends down to us continually 
from the Father, that is the original and spring of all 
these strange blessings. 

The Father has a heart of large bounty to the poor 
ruined race of Adam ; the Son has a hand fit to be almo- 
ner to the king of glory ; and the Spirit is the rich 
alms. This blessed donative has enriched ten thousand 
souls already, and there remains enough to enrich ten 
thousand worlds. 

The Father, what a glorious giver ! the Son, what a 
glorious medium of communication ! and the Spirit, 
what a glorious gift ! We blush and adore while we 
partake of such immense favours, and gratitude is even 
overwhelmed with Avonder. 

O let our spirits rejoice in this blessed article of our 
religion ! And may all the temptations that we meet 
with from men of reason, never, never baffle so sweet 
a faith I 

K k 



386 IMPROVEMENT 



XIII. The Day of Grace. 



IF you ask the opinion of some divines concerning the 
day ot" grace, they will tell you, it signifies that partic- 
ular season of a man's life, when the Spirit of God by 
co.jvictions and good motions stirs him up to seek after 
salvation, and gives him sufficient grace to convert him ; 
and all this while it was possible for him to be saved, 
and it was within the reach of his power to make this 
grtce effectual: But this is determined to a certain 
though unknown day, which if a man passes *vit.hout 
being converted, then his salvation becomes impossible. 
Now, though I would not choose to borrow all my sen- 
timents in the chief doctrines of the gospel from the 
sermons of a bishop, published on the terms of salva- 
tion, yet against this scheme I may venture to use an 
argument taken from that book. 

Let us suppose, that it was declared in the gospel, 
that there was a certain number of sins, or a certain 
period of time, beyond which God would not pardon ; 
and not any particular number, or time, was specified, 
to the world: yet still most men (it is too justly to he 
feared) would first be led to hope to commit many skis 
with a flattering persuasion, that they should not come 
to that number, or arrive at that period : and then, 
when the habit was become strong, they would be fixed 
by despair in this opinion, that being probably got past 
that number of sins, and that period of grace, they h'ad 
even as good continue in their sins, as their inclination 
powerfully directs them : they would go on in great 
wickedness and say, there is no hope. And thus we 
see, that even his supposition which seems to take niost 
care of the cause of holiness, leaves it not only in a 
naked and unguarded, but in a very desperate con- 
dition. 

Concerning a day of grace thus much may be said^ 
and this is all that I can understand by it, viz. That in 
the life of a man, there are particular seasons when he 
en]oys more of the outward means of grace, or advan- 
tages for the good of his soul, than at other times ; that 
is, more constant opportunities of hearing the word, a 



OP THE MIND. 887 

teiore useful and affecting ministry, better company, 
warmer admonitions, and plainer warnings by divine 
providence; more leisure and conveniences for read- 
ing, meditation, and prayer ; or, if all this continue all 
his life-time, yet there are seasons when the Spirit of 
Ood, by his common operations, does more powerfully 
convince of sin, and stir up the conscience to duty, and 
impress his word with more force upon the heart : but 
being opposed and resisted he is grieved and departs, 
his workings grow daily fewer and feebler, or it may 
be he retires at once and leaves the soul in a stupid 
frame, and returns no more. 

Yet we could not say heretofore that the Spirit of 
^od, in his former operations, gave him a full and prox- 
imate sufficiency of inward converting grace before, 
since it proved so insufficient in the event, and ineffec- 
tual : nor can we say now that his day of grace is 
quite past and gone ; because the Spirit of God, who 
is sovereisjn in mercj'^, may return again. 

Yet it is a very good motive to urge upon delaying 
sinners, that it is a daring and dangerous pifce of 
impiety and rebellion to quench the motions of the 
Holy Spirit ; lest he depart grieved, and never return 
again ; lest he never give them so fair an opportunity 
for conversation, never bring them so near again to the 
Jsingdom of heaven. 

XIV^ God and Mature unsearchable. 

JtlOW poor and imperfect a creature is man ! How 
unequal his knowledge of things! How large and 
almost immensely diffusive his acquaintance with 
some parts of nature, but how exceedingly limited 
and narrow in others ! — The man of learning who has 
the highest temptations to pride, has also the most 
powerful motives to humility. 

Man can measure the heavens, tell how many miles 
the planet Venus is distant from Jupiter, and how far 
the earth from the sun. He has found out with cer- 
tainty the periods of their revolutions, and the hour of 
their eclipses: he can adjust the affairs of the plane- 
tary world to a moment, their vast variety of appear- 
ances, with all thdr prodigious circuits. But this great 



^88 IMPROVEMENT 

artist man is puzzled at a worm or a fly, a graia of 
sand or a drop of water ; there is not the least atom in 
the whole creation, but has questions about it un- 
searchable to human nature ; no, nor the least part of 
empty space, but sets all the wisest philosophers at 
variance, when they attempt to tell what it is, or 
whether it be any thmg or nothing. 

This sort of talk, my neighbours will say, is a 
jBourish of wit to teach us to undervalue our reason, a 
mere rant of rhetoric, an hyperbole of reproach to 
our understanding ; but while 1 leave it to astronomers 
to confirm what 1 have said concerning the vast extent 
of their acquaintance with the heavens, 1 shall make 
it appear even to demonstration, that our knowledge 
of the things on earth, is as mean as I have expressed, 
in the literal and proper sense. 

There is not the least grain of sand on the shore, nor 
the least atom in the whole creation, but has questions 
about it unsearchable by human .nature. 

This atom may be divided into millions of millions 
of pieces, and after all this the least part of it will be 
infinitely divisible. The infinite divisibility of matter 
is so often proved and so universally granted by all 
modern philosophers, that I need not stand to prove it 
here ; yet that my unlearned readers may see and 
believe, I will set down a plain vulgar demonstration or 
two of this matter. 

I. It is certain, that if matter be not infinitely divisi- 
ble, then there is, or may be so small a part of matter 
which cannot be divided further ; now take this suppo- 
sed smallest part, this fancied atom, and put it between 
the points of a pair of compasses, maae of stiff and 
inflexible matter, it is evident that the legs of the 
compasses in less and less degrees will be divided 
asunder, quite to the centre ; and from the points to 
the centre there is room for still less and less pieces of 
matter to be put between the legs. Therefore that 
very supposed atom may be conceived to be divided 
still further into less parts, and consequently it was not 
indivisible. 

II. If there be any indivisible part of matter, the 
shape of it must be spherical, or a perfect globe, where- 
in every part of the surface is equally distant from th« 



OP THE MIND. S89 

centre ; for if you suppose it of any other shape, then 
some parts of it will be farther from its centre than 
otlier parts ; and all these longer parts may be shortened 
or p.jr<'d off till every part be equally short, or equally 
distant from the centre; that is till it be reduced to a globe. 
Ki>w, from the centre of this globe to the surface, the 
pans of it are but half so long as from any part of the 
surface to its opposite part ; and therefore this globe 
may be still divided into two hemisjpheres or semicircles, 
which are not the smallest parts ot matter that can be, 
becaurse they are not of a spherical figure, as in the 
beginning of the argument. 

And then, by a repetition of the same reasoning, those 
little semicircles or half globes, by paring off the parts 
which are farthest from their centre, may be reduced 
to smaller globes again, and those smaller globes again 
divided in halves as before } there is no end of these 
divisions, and therefore matter is infinitely divisible. 

To carry on this argument yet further, to the sur- 
prise of my unlearned readers ; let us take notice, 
that all matter has three dimensions in it, namely, 
length, breadth, and depth ; now every part of matter, 
every grain, of sand, is infinitely divisible as to each of 
these dimensions ; that is, every part which results 
from an infinite division of the length of it, may be yet 
again infinitely divided according to its breadth } thus 
the division of this grain of sand becomes infinitely 
infinite. And yet stUl it may be further infinitely 
divided, according to the depth or thickness of it ; thus 
the divisibility of matter swells beyond all imagination, 
and is more than infinitely infinite, and that with resist- 
less evidence and astonishment to the eye of reason. 

Go, now, vain man, and find fault with any part of 
the creation of God, and play the foolish critic on 
his works of providence ; go and censure the justice of 
his conduct toward Adam or any of his children, or 
blame the wisdom of his institutions in the dispensa- 
tions cf his grace ; monstrous arrogance, and proud 
impiety ! Rather go first and learn what an atom is, 
or the meanest part of the dust of this vast creation 
which God has made. It has something of infinity in 
it ; it confounds thee in perplexing darkness, and 
reaches far beyond all the little stretch of thv boasted 
K k 2 



S90 IMFROVEMENT 

powers of reasoning. Be dumb in silence, O vain 
creature ! at the foot of this infinite and eternal Being, 
nor pretend to measure his steps, to censure his mo- 
tions, and direct his conduct till thou art better able to 
give an account of the dust which he has put under 
the feet of the meanest of his slaves. 



XY. The Diamond painlecL 

How wide and unhappy a miistake it is, when Chris- 
tians endeavour to adorn their pure divine worship by 
the mixture of it with ceremonies of human invention. 
The symbolical ordinances of the gospel have a noble 
simplicity h^ them ; their materials ^ire water, bread, 
and wine, three of the most necessary and valuabJe 
things in luunan life : and their mystic sense is plain, 
natural and easy. By water we are cleansed when we 
have been defiled ; so by the grace of the Holj Spirit 
we are purified from sin, which pollutes our soul?, in 
the sight of God. By Ivread we are fed when we are 
iiungry and nourished into strength for service ; by 
wine we are refreshed and revived when thirsty 
and fainting ; so from the body of Christ, which was 
feroken as an atoning sacrifice^ and his blood which 
was poured out for us, we derive our spiritual life 
and strength. The application -of these symbols is 
most simple and natural also ; we are commanded to 
wash with the water, to eat the bread, and to drink the 
wine ; most proper representations of our participation 
of these benefits. 

Thus much of figures and emblems did the alwise 
God think proper to appoint and continue in his church, 
when he brake the yoke of Jewish bondage, and abol- 
ished a multitude of rites and ceremonies of his own 
ancient appointment. How plain, how natural, how 
glorious, how divine, are these two Christian institu- 
tions, baptism and the Lord's supper, if surveyed and 
practised in their original simplicity ! but they are 
debased by the addition of any fantastic ornaments. 

What think ye of all the gaudy trappings and goldetr 
winery that is mingled wUh the Christian worship, Hy 



OP THE MINB. S9t 

the imaginations of men in the church of Rome ? 
Are they not hke so many spots and blemishes cast 
upon a fair jewel bjr some foolish painter ? Let the 
colours be ever so sprightly and glowing, and the lustre 
of the paint ever so rich, yet if you place them on g. 
diamond they are spots and blemishes still. Is not 
this a just emblem to represent all the gay airs, and 
rich, glittering accoutrements wherewith the church of 
Rome hath surrounded her devotion, and her public 
religion ? 

The reformers of our worship in the church of 
England were much of this mind, for they boldly pass 
this censure on many of the popish ceremonies, that 
they entered into the church by indiscreet devotion, 
and zeal without knowledge : they blinded the people 
and obscured the glory of God, and are worthy to be 
cutaway and clean rejected: that they did more con- 
found and darken than declare and set forth Christ's 
benefits unto us, and reduced us again to a ceremonial 
law, like that of Moses, and to the bondage of figures 
and shadows: this is their sentence and judgment con- 
cerning many of the Romish rites, in the preface to 
the book of common prayer. Happy had it been for 
Great-Britain, if they had thought so concerning all of 
them, since they had all the same or a worse original, 
and they all tend to the same unhappy end ! However, 
let others take their liberty of colouring all their jewels 
with what greens, and purples, and scarlets they 
please ; but for my own part, I like a diamond iesst 
that has no paint upon it. 



XVI. Bills of Exchange. iT05. 

W HEN a rich merchant, who dwells in a foreign land 
afar off, commits his treasure to the hands of a banker, 
k is to be drawn out into smaller suras by his servants 
or his friends here at home, as their necessities shall 
require ; and he furnishes them with bills of exchange 
drawn upon his banker or treasurer, which are paid 
fa«nourably to the person who oflfers the bill, according 



^S IMPROVEMENT 

to the lime when the words of the bill appoint the pay- 
ment. 

Is it not possible to draw a l)€aut!ful allegory h*nce, 
to represent th«' cotjduct of the blessed God, in his 
promises of grace, without debasing so divine a subject? 

God the Father, the spring and fountain of all gracCj 
dwells in regions of light and holiness inaccessible, too 
far off for us to converse with him, or receive supplies 
from him in an immediate way : but he has sent the 
Son to dwell in human nature, and constituted him 
treasurer of all his blessings, that we might derive per- 
petual supplies from his band : he has entrusted him 
with all the riches of grace and glory ; he has laid up 
infinite stores of love, wisdom, strength, pardon, peace, 
and consolation, in the hands of his Son for this very 
purpose, to be drawn out thence as fast as the neces- 
sities of his saints require. " It pleased the Father that 
in him should all fullness dwdl. He has received gifts 
for men." Col. i. 19. Psal. Ixviii. 18. 

Now all the promises in the Bible are so many bills of 
exchange drawn by God the Father in heaven, upon 
his Son Jesus Christ, and payable to ev^ery pious bear- 
er ; that is, to every one that comes to the mercy seat, 
and offers the promise for acceptance, and pleads it in 
a way of obedient faith and prayer. Jesus, the high 
treasurer of heaven, knows every letter of his Father's 
hand writing, and can never be imposed upon by a for- 
ged note ; he will ever put due honour upon his Father's 
bills ; be accepts them all, for " all the promises in him 



ieptj 
payment. 

If you apply to the blessed Jesus,-and offer him a bill 
of the largest sum, a promise of the biggest blessings, he 
will never say, " I have not so much of my Father^ s trea- 
sure in my hand.^* For he hath received all things. 
John iii. 35. " The Father loveth the Son, and hath gi- 
ven all things into his hand" And may I not venture tf> 
aayy this vA-nole treasure is made over to the saints ? 
" All things are yours." 1 Cor. iii. 22. And they are 
parcelled out into bills of promise, and notes und^.r the 
Father's hand. So the whole treasure of a nation 



6P THE MIND. ZQ$ 

sometimes consists in credit and in promissory notes 
more than in present sums of gold and silver. 

Some of these divine bills are payable at sight, and we 
receive the sum as soon as we offer the bill : (viz.) Those 
that must supply our present wants ; such as, " Call 
upon me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee, and 
thou shalt glorify me :" Psa. 1. 15. and there have been 
many examples of such speedy payment. Psa. cviii. S. 
** In the day when 1 cried^ thou answeredst me, and 
strengthenedst me with strength in my souL^^ 

Some are only payable in general at a distant time, 
and that is left to the discretion of Christ, the treasurer,^ 
namely, " *^s the day is, so thy strength shall be." Deut . 
xxxiii. 25. And we need never fear trusting him long ; 
for this bank, in the hands of Christ, can never fail ; 
*\for in him divelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily." 
Col. ii. 9. And Eph. iii. 8, we are told of the unsearch- 
able riches of Christ. 

Sometimes Christ may put us off with a general kind 
answer, or give us a note under his hand payable at de- 
mand in several parcels, instead of a full payment all at 
once: thus he dealt with his dear friend and servant 
Paul, in 2 Cor. xii. 9. Doubtless, Paul, in his seeking 
the Lord thrice, for the removal of his thorn in the flesh, 
had pleaded several lar^e promises of God, had offered 
those divine bills to Christ for acceptance and payment ; 
but, instead of this, our Lord^ives him a note under 
his own hand, which ran in this language, " My grace 
is suflicient for thee." And if we had but the faith which 
that blessed apostle had, we might live upon this hope : 
this would be as good as present payment ; for, if he 
delay to give the full sum, it is only because he sees we 
have not need of it at present : he knows our neces- 
sities better than we do ourselves ; he will not trust us 
with too much at once in our own hands ; but he pays 
us those bills when he sees the fittest, and we have often 
found it so, and confessed his faithfulness. 

At other times he pays us, but not in the same kind 
of mercy which is mentioned in the promise, yet in 
something more useful and valuable. If the promise 
mention a temporal blessing, he may give us a spiritual 
one: if it express ease, he may give us patience: and 
thus his Father's bills are always honoured, and we' 



5S4 IMPROVEMEMT 

have no reason to complain. So the banker may dis- 
charge a bill of an hundred pounds, not with money, but 
with such goods and merchandise as may yield us two 
hundred, and we gladly confess the bill is well paid. 

Some of these promises, these bills of heavenly 
treasure, are not made payable till the heur of our 
death ; as, " Blessed are those servants whom when the 
Lord comes he shall Jind loatching^ kc." Luke xii. 87. 
" He that endureth to the end the same shall be saved.''* 
Matt. xxiv. 13. " Be thou faithful to the death^ and 1 
will give thee a croivn of life. Rev. ii. 10. 

Others are not due till the day of resurrection, as, 
" Them ivho sleep in Jesus ivill God bring with him.'''* 
1 Thess. iv. 14. " / will redeem them from deathJ* 
Hosv xiii. 14. Col. iil. 4. " fVhen Christ, who is our 
life, shall appear, then shall ye also appear with him in 
glory.'''' Phil. iii. 21. ^^ He shall change our vile body, 
ihatit may be fashioned like unto his glorious body." 
1 Pet. v. 4. " ^nd when the chief Shepherd shall ap- 
pear, ye shall receive a crown of glory that fadeth not 
away." 

Now, when the great day shall come, in which our 
liord Jesus Christ shall give up his mediatorial king- 
dom to the Father, and render an account of all his 
stewardship, how fair will his books appear! how just 
a balance will stand at the foot of all his accounts ! 
Then shall he show in what manner he has fulfilled the 
promises to the saints, and present to the Father all the 
bills that he has received and discharged ; while all the 
saints shall with one voice attest it, to the honour of the 
high Treasurer of heaven, that he has not failed in 
payment, even to the smallest farthing. 



XVII. JVie Saints unknown in this Wbrld. 



Out 



of the millions of mankind that spread over 



the earth in every age, the great God has been pleased 
to take some into his own family, has given them a 
heavenly and divine nature, and made them his sons 
and his daughters. But he has set no outward mark of 
^lory upon them ; there is nothing in their figure or in 



OF THE MIND. S9$ 

their countenance to distinguish them from the rabble 
of mankind. And it is fit that they should be in some 
measure unknown among their fellow mortals : their 
character and dignity is too sacred and sublime to be 
made public here an earth, where the circumstances 
that attend them are generally so mean and despicable. 
Divine wisdom has appointed the other world for the 
place of their discoverj^ ; there they shall appear like 
themselves, in state, equipage, and array, becoming the 
children of God, and heirs of heaven. 

Their blessed Lord himself, who is God's first born 
Son, was a mere stranger, and unknown among men ; 
he laid aside the rays of divinity and the form of a God 
when he came down to dwell with men, and he took 
upon him the form of a servant. He wore no divine 
majesty on his face ; no sparks of Godhead beaming from 
bis eyes ; no glaring evidence of his high dignity in all 
his outward appearance. Therefore the world knoweth 
us not, because it knew him not. But he shall be 
known and adored when he comes in the glory of his 
Father, with legions of angels ; and we know, that 
when he shall appear we siiall be like him. The life 
of the saints is hidden with Christ in God. But when 
Christ, who is their life, shall appear, they also shall 
appear with him in glory. 1 John iii. 1,2 ; Col. iii. S, 4, 
In tliat daj'^ they shall stand forth before the whole crea- 
tion in fair evidence ; they shall shine in distinguished 
light, and appear vested in their own undoubted honours. 
But here it seems proper there should be something of 
a cloud upon them, both upon the account of the men 
of this world, and upon their own account too, as w ell 
as in conformity to Christ Jesus their Lord. 

First, upon their own account, because the present 
state of a Christian is a state of trial. We are not to 
walk by sight, as the saints above and angels do ; they 
know they are possessed of life and blessedness, fo'r 
they see God himself near them, Christ in the midst 
of them, and glory all around them. Our w'ork is to 
live by faith ; and therefore God has not made either 
his love to us or his grace in us so obvious and apparent 
to ourselves as that every Christian, even the weak and 
the UHwatchful, should be fully assured of this salvation. 
He has not appointed the principle ©f life within us to 



396 IMPROVEMENT 

sparkle in so divine a manner as to be always self-evi- 
dent to the best of Christians ; much less to the luke- 
warm and the backslider. It is fit that it should not be 
too sensibly manifest, because it is so sensibly imper- 
fect, that we might examine ourselves whether we are 
in the faith, and prove ourselves whether Christ, as a 
principle of life, dwell in us or no. £Cor. xiii. 5. — 
While so many snares, and sins, and dangers, attend 
us, and mingle with our spiritual life, there will be 
something of darkness ready to rise and obscure it, 
thatfeo we may maintain a holy jealousy and solicitude 
about our own state, that we 'may search with dili- 
gence t^ find whether we have a divine life or no, and 
be called and urged often to look inwards. 

This degree of remaining darkness and the doubtful 
state of a slothful Christian, is sometimes of great use 
to spur him onward in his race of holiness, and quicken 
him to aspire after the highest measures of the spiritu- 
al life ; that when its acts are more vigorous it may 
shine with the brightest evidence, and give the soul of 
the believer full satisfaction and joy. It serves also to 
awaken the drowsy; Christian to keep a holy watch over 
his heart and practice, lest sin and temptation make a 
foul inroad upon his divine life, spread still a thicker 
cloud over his best hopes, and break the peace of his 
conscience. Though the principle of grace be not al- 
ways self evident, yet we are required to give diligence 
to make and to keep it sure. £ Pet. i. 10. And as it 
was proper that every little seed of grace should not 
shine with self-sufficient and constant evidence, on the 
account of the Christian himself; so, secondly, it was 
fit that their state and dignity should not be too obvious 
to the men of the world, that they might neither 
adore nor destroy the saints. A principle of supersti- 
tion might tempt some weaker souls to pay extrava- 
gant honours to the Christian, if he caiTied heaven in 
is face, and it were visible in his countenance that he 
■was a son of God. On the other hand the malicious 
and perverse part of mankind might imitate the rage 
of Satan, and attempt the sooner to destroy the saint. 
This was the case of the blessed Paul. When he 
had wrought a miracle at Lystra, and appeared with 
something divine about him, when he had healed the 



OF THE MINB. «95 

3crippleby a mere word of command, the people cried 
out with exalted voices, *' The gods are come down to 
us in the likeness of men :" immediately they made a 
Mercury of Bt. Paul, they turned Barnabas into Jupi- 
ter, and the priests brought oxen and garlands to ttie 
gates to have done sacrifice to them : this was the hu- 
mour of the superstitious Gentiles. But in several of 
the Jews, their malice and envy wrought a very differ- 
ent effect ; for they persuaded the people into fury, so 
that they stoned the blessed apostle, and drew him out 
of the city for dead. Acts xiv. 

Thus it fared with our Lord Jesus Christ himself in 
the days of his flesh : for the most part he lived un- 
known amon^ men ; he did not cry nor make his voice 
to be heard in the streets ; but when he discovered 
himself to them on any special occasion, the people 
ran into different extremes. Once, when the charac- 
ters of the Messiah appeared with evidence upon him, 
they Vk'ould have raised him to a throne, and made an 
earthly king of him. John vi. 15. At another time, 
when his holy conduct did not suit their humour, they 
were ^^ filled with tvrath, and led him to the brow of a hill 
io cast him down headlong.'''' Luke iv. 29. Therefore 
our blessed Lord did not walk through the streets and 
tell the world he was the Messiah ; but by degrees he 
let the characters of his mission appear upon him, and 
discovered himself in wisdom, as his disciples and the 
world could bear it, and as his Father had appointed. 

Let us imitate our blessed Lord, and copy after so 
divine a pattern ; let our works bear a bright and grow- 
ing witness to our inward and real Christianity. This 
is such a gentle sort of evidence, that, though it may 
work conviction in the hearts of spectators, yet it doCvS 
not strike the sense witJi so glaring a light as to dazzle 
the %veaker sort who behold it into superstitious folly r 
nor does it give such provocation to the envy of the 
malicious, as if the saints had borne the sign of their 
high dignity in some more surprising manner in their 
figure or countenance. 

I might add also, there is something in this sort of 
evidence of their saintship that carries more true hon- 
our in it, than if some heavenly name had been writtes 
' L 1 



^98 IMPROVEMENT 

in their forehead, or their skin had shone like the ftiofr 
of Moses, when he came down from the mount. It is 
-a more sublime glory for a prince to be found among 
the vulgar in undistinguished raiment, aryi by his su- 
perior conduct and shining virtues to force the world 
to confess that he is the son of a king, than to walk 
through the rabble with ensigns of royalty, and de- 
mand honour from them by the mere blaze of his or- 
aaments. 



XVIII. Praise waiteth for Thee. God in Sion. 
Psalm Ixv. 1. 



And does praise wait for God in the congregation of 
his saints ! Surely it doth not use to be so. Mercy 
uses to be beforehand with us, and the Lord waiteth 
to be gracious. Mercy is wont to be ready in the 
hands of God before praise is ready on the tongues of 
men ; and we are sure he waited on us to show his 
grace long before we had any songs ready for him, or 
anv thought of praising him. 

Yet sometimes it is so in this lower world ; holy souls 
may be waiting at the throne of grace with their prais- 
es ready to ascend as soon as mercy appears : mercy 
may be silent for a season, and then praise for a season 
is silent too. This is the original language of the 
psalm, and this the state of things when the psalmist 
wrote ; " Praise is silent for Uiee in Zion.''^ When the 
church of God under trouble has been long seeking 
any particular blessing or deliverance, and God's ap- 
pointed hour of salvation is not yet come, then the 
songs of the church are silent ; yet she stands watching 
and waiting for the desired moment, that she may 
meet the salvation with praise. 

But why should God suffer praise to be silent at all 
in Zion ? Is not the church the habitation of his prais- 
es ? Yes ; but it is the house of prayer too: prayer 
and patience must have their proper exercise. If 
praise were never silent on earth, where would there 



OF THE MIND. 5n 

fee any room for prayer to speak ? when would there 
be any season for the grace of patience to show itself ?" 
God loves prayer as well as praise : his Hovereignty is- 
honoured by humble waiting, as well as his goodness 
by holy gratitude and joy. If praise be silent, then 
le*t prayer be more fervent. The absent Saviour loves 
t(» hear the voice of his beloved ; the lips of the 
church must never be quite silent, though they are not 
always employed in hallelujahs. 

Praise is the sweetest part of divine worship ; it is a 
short heaven here on earth. God lets our praises be 
silent sometimes, to teach us that this is not a state of 
complete blessedness. After the great day of decis- 
ion, praise shall be continual and unceasing, when there 
shall be no more sighing for the saints, no more death, 
no more pain. Then churches shall want ordinances 
no more; nor saints abstain from the bread of life. 
Jesus, their everlasting pastor, shall feed them in pas- 
tures ever green, and from the tree of life, and lead 
them to the fountains of joy, and the streams where 
eternal pleasures run. O may our souls wait with joy- 
ful hope for that day, and our praises shall not be si- 
lent. 

Yet it is not with the church as it is with the world, 
when praise is silent in both. It is ever silent among 
the wicked ; because they are forgetful of God, their 
maker : it is only silent among the saints for a season^ 
when their God seems to frown and hide himself, and 
as it were to forget his people. 

Besides, let us consider that all praise is not silent 
there. Daily incense arises before God in his temple, 
though particular thank offerings wait till particular 
mercies are received. Praise for all the greatest mer- 
cies, namely, for redeeming grace, for electing love, 
for the sanctifying spirit, is never silent in Zion. 
Psalm Ixxxiv. 4. " Blessed are they that dioell in thine 
house ; theif tvill be still praising thee.'''' But praise for 
some special favours may be silent for a season, as well 
as that large revenue of praise that shall grow due at 
tlie accomplishment of all the promises and the con- 
summation Qf blessedness. 



40a IMPROVEMENT 

Again, the praises of God are silent in the worlil 
without any design of breaking forth ; but the silence 
of the church longs to be lost in joyful songs of thanks- 
giving. It is like an engine charged nith praise, that 
wants only the warm touch of mercy to make it shine 
with the glories of heavenly worship, and sound aloud 
the name of the God of heaven. 

Sometimes God is as well pleased that praise should 
wait with humble silence, as that it should speak. It 
shows a well disposed frame and temper of soul that 
longs to honour God. The hearts of his saints are 
instruments of music to the Lord ; he has formed 
their souls for his glory, and turned their heartstrings 
to his own praise. Now he loves to see them keep 
still in tune, though he does not always play his own 
praises upon them ; he neither wants our services nor 
our songs, for his own perfections are an everlasting 
harmony to himself, without the slender notes that we 
can sound. 

We may make this sweet remark at last, that Zion, 
on earth shall bejoincd to Jerusalem above ; the family 
below shall be joined to the upper house, for they have 
learned the work of heaven ; their hearts are tuned to 
praise : they want only such harps as angels have to 
bring glory down, and make a heaven on this earth. 
In 1 Chron. xi. 4, we are told that David took Zion 
from the Jebusites, and built it round about, and added 
it to Jerusalem. So shall Jesus, the true David, the 
king of saints, take this earthly Zion from the powers 
of this wicked world, and shall build and adorn it 
around with glory and strength, with perfect beauty 
and complete grace, and add it to the Jerusalem which 
is above. Look upward, O souls, who are full of 
praises, and are even impatient to speak the glories of 
your God ! look to Jerusalem nbove, where praise is 
constant and never ceasing, and rejoice to think that 
you shall be made inhabitants of that city, and united 
to the glorious church. It is your chief pleasure here 
to be praising your God ; and it is the chief pleasure 
of your fellow saints on high, where happiness fs 
perfect, praise is perfect too, and never silent. 



OF THE MIND. i@4 

It is the chief delight of happy souls there to run 
over the glories of their God, and tell one another joy- 
fully, and humbly tell their God, what a .wise, what a 
holy, what an almighty and all-gracious' God he is. 
Every breath of praise is a new gale of pleasure there; 
it is sweet breathing, in air perfumed with praises; 
and this climate is most agreeable to your new nature 
and your constitution, you that are members and parts 
of Zion ; and you shall be translated thither to your 
kindred souls. In heaven the river of pleasure springs 
from God's right hand, because Jesus, the Saviour, sits 
there. It is a river that makes glad the city of God ; 
and every stream, as it flows along the golden streets, 
murmurs swe^ praises to the fountain. 

But heaven and the state of glory are not yet com- 
plete : the church waits above for many promises that 
are not yet fulfilled, and future blessings that are yet 
unknown. The work of grace is not finished till the 
great resurrection-day ; and heaven itself, in all tlie 
blissful regions of it, waits for such praises as the ear of 
men or angels has never yet heard. 

While the whole church of God on earth is in a state 
of imperfection and trial, a state of sins and sorrows, 
praise waits in all the sanctuaries below, and in Zion 
above too. The souls in glory wait for complete sal- 
vation, and the redemption of their bodies from the 
grave. On the harps of angels praise sits waiting ; 
and it waits also on the tongue of Jesus, the intercessor. 
His prayers shall one day change all at once into 
praises, and lift the praises of angels, and of embodied 
saints, to higher notes than ever yet they knew. O 
the voices ani the songs, the joys, the raptures of that 
moment, of that day, of that eternity, when such 
a multitude of praises shall burst out'at once, that 
have been waiting long in that Zion, and shall 
become an everlasting praise ! when Jesus, the Son 
of God, the Mediator, shall lead the worship, and 
the praises that have been growing these seventeen 
hundred years on his tongue shall break forth and 
spread themselves abroad, and all the creation shall 
hear, and all echo to his song, Glory to God in the 
highest ! This is what we wait and hope for, and long; 
'to bear a part in those pleasures and those praises. 

» L 1 .^ 



4sf IMPROVEMENT 



XIX. Job xxuu 3. O that I knew ivhere Imightjindhitrhr 

Among all the various kinds and orders of God's 
intellectual creation, there is not one that uses this 
language besides a mourning saint in this lower world. 
As for all other spirits, whether dweilinj^ in flesh or not, 
tlieir wishes are expressed in a very different manner^ 
nor do they seek and long to find an absent God. 

If we ascend up to heaven, and inquire there what 
are llie wishes of those bles.ied spirits, we shall find that 
then* enjoyments are so glorious, and thSir satisfactions 
1-ise so high in the immediate presence of God among 
them, that they have nothing of this nature left to wish 
for : they know that their God is with them ; and all 
their wish is, what they are assured to enjoy, that this 
God will be with them forever 

If we descend to the regions of hell, where God 
reigns in vengeance, we shall hear those unhappy 
spirits groaning out many a fruitless wish. " O that I 
knew where I raij;ht avoid him, that I might get out of 
his sight, out of his nolic^> and reach for ever ! I feel his 
dreadful presence; and O that it were possible for me 
to be utterly absent from him, and to find a place 
where God is not !" 

If we take the wings of the morning, and fly to the 
utmost part of the eastern or the >vestern world, we 
shall find the language of those ignorant heathens, " O 
that I knew where f might find food, and plenty, and 
all sensual delights !" but tht;y send not a wish after the 
great God, though he has been so many ages absent 
from them and their fathers. He is unknown to them, 
and they have no desires working in them after an un- 
known God. 

If we tarry at home and survey the bulk of man- 
kind around us, the voice of their wishes sounds much 
the same as that of the he;rthen world, " O that 1 knew 
where I might find trade and merchandize, riches and 
honours, corn, wine, and oil, the necessaries or the 
superfluous luxuries of life !" but God is not in all thehr 



©P THE MIND. 403 

thoughts. If they frequent the temples, and attend 
the seasons of worship : they are well enough satisfied 
with outward forms, without the sight of God in them. 
There is no natural man that with a sincere longing of 
soul cries out, " O that I knew where to find him I" 

As for the children of God, that live in the light of 
their Father's countenance, they walk with him daily 
and hourly ; they behold him near them by the eye of 
faith, and they feel the sweet influences of his gracious 
presence; their highest ambition and their dearest 
wishes are, " O, that he might abide for ever with me^ 
and keep me for ever near to himself !" 

The words of this scripture, therefore, can only be 
the language of a saint on earth in distress and dark- 
ness, when God, who was wont to visit him with di- 
vine communications, and to meet him in his addresset* 
to the throne of grace, has withdrawn himself for a 
season, and left the soul to grapple with many difficul- 
ties alone. 

This was the case of that holy man whose sorrows 
and complaints have furnished out almost a whole book 
of scripture, and supplied the saints in all succeeding 
ages with the forms and speeches of pious mourning. 
It is the voice of a sacred impatience that Job here 
utters, " O that 1 knew where 1 might find him !" and 
by a plain paraphrase we may learn both the meaning 
and the reason of such language, and be taught, by his 
example, to lament after an absent God. 

Let us suppose the saint, therefore, pouring out his 
soul in such sort of expressions as these ; in which I 
shall not entirely confine myself to the darkness of the 
patriarchal dispensation under which Job lived, but in- 
<lulge the language of the New Testament, and person- 
ate a mourning Christian. 

Time was when 1 had a God near mc, and upon, 
every new distress and difiiculty I made him my pre- 
sent refuge ; I was wont to call upon him in an hour 
of darkness, and he shone upon my path with divine 
light. He has often taught me to read my duty in his 
providences, or in his word, or by some secret hints of 
his own Spirit, even while I have been kneeling at the 
throne of grace ; but now X find not my usual sign? 



404 IMPROVEMENT 

and tokens. My Guide and my Counsellor is with- 
drawn ; " O that I knew where I might find him !" 

He was once my kind assistant in every duty, and 
my support under every burden : I have found the 
grace of my Lord sufficient for me in my sharpest 
conflicts; his strength has appeared in my weakness. 
When my spiritual enemies have beset me round, he- 
has scattered them before me, or subdued them under 
me ; and being held up by his everlasting arms, 1 have 
stood my ground, and borne up my head under the 
weight of heavy sorrows : but am now attacked on 
all sides ; my soul wrestles hard with sins and tempta- 
tions, and I find no assistance, no victory ; 1 sink under 
my present sorrows ; for my God, my strength, and 
my comforter, is absent and afar off; " O that I knew 
where I mi^ht find him !" 

My God was wont to deal with me as a compas- 
sionate friend ; when Satan has accused, he has justi- 
fied. He has shown me the all-sulficient sacrifice of 
his Son ; and that spotless righteousness of his, which 
has answered all thr demands of his own holy law, 
and cancelled all the charges of guilt that the devil or 
my own conscience could bring against me. He has 
taught me by faith to put my soul under the sprink- 
lings of this sacred blood, and to wrap around me the 
robe of this divine righteousness; he himself has ar- 
rayed me in garments of salvation. But now the army 
of my sins rises up before me, and overwhelms my 
spirit with many terrors ; Satan, the accuser, urges on 
the charge, and my Saviour and his righteousness are, 
as it were, hidden from me. " O that 1 knew where I 
might find him !" 

Many a censure have I borne from men, and had my 
reputation assaulted and my_good name blackened with 
many a scandal. But when man reproached me, God 
has undertaken my cause, and made my righteousness 
shine as the light, and my innocence as the noon day ; 
I could then pnur out my soul before him, tell him all 
my sorrows in flowing language, and feel sweet relief; 
but, now, alas ! troubles and reproaches are multiplied 
upon me, and he does not seem to take my part ; my 
spirit is bound and shut up, and 1 am cut off from 



OP THE BIIND. 4m 

that free converse, that humble, holy intimacy, which 
1 once enjoyed with my God ; I cry out of wrong, but 
I am not heard : I cry aloud, but there is no judgment. 
Will he not help me to pray ? will he not' hear my 
groans and requests? Hath God forgotten to be gra- 
cious ? Yet 1 would seek his face still, and " O' th^it X 
knew where I might find him !" 

Often have 1 seen him in his own ordinances, in the 

Elace of public worship ; I have seen his power and 
is glory in the sanctuary : I have found him in secret 
corners, and my meditation of him has been exceeding 
sweet. In dark retirements he has smiled on my soul, 
and has often given me reviving light. I have found 
him in his works, and I have had a fairer sight of him 
in his word ; I can name the places, the pleasant lines m 
my Bible, and say, " I have seen the face of my God 
here :'* But now the Bible itself is like a sealed bookj 
or like a strange language which I cannot understand; 
I hear not the voice of mj^ God speaking to me there; 
I go forward to his promises, and read what he will 
do for his people, but I perceive him not ; backward, 
to his past providences, or to my own experiences, and 
review what he has done, but there is a aarkness there 
too : I turn to my left hand, among his works of na- 
ture, but I do not see him ; I seek him on my right 
hand, among bis works of grace, but still he hides him- 
self that I cannot behold him : v. 8, 9. " I wander in 
the night and inquire after him ; I watch for him more 
than they that watch for the morning ; I say, more 
than they that watch for the morning ; " O that I knew 
where I might find him 1" 

And it is no wonder that I am so impatient under 
the painful sense of his present distance from me, and 
so importunate for his return ; for I have known the 
dreadtul case of utter distance from him in a state of 
nature and sin, and I have tasted something of the 
pleasure of being brought nigh by grace, and now I 
dread every thing that looks like that old distance, that 
estrangement ; I would fain renew those divine plea- 
sures of a returning and a reconciled God : " O that J 
vlcnew where 1 might find him !" 



40^ IMPROVEMENT 

Besides, 1 bethink myself and say, " What shall 1* 
do without my God !" for I find all creatures utterly 
insufficient to relieve and help me ; and I have knov^m 
something of God's all-sufficiency ; he hath been my 
helper in six troubles, and in seven, he is my only hope : 
when creatures stand aloof from me, and each of them 
say " There is no help in me," wliither should 1 go 
then but to mv God ? " O that I knew where I might 
find him !" * 

I have been so much used to live upon him, and 
found his divine aids and influences so necessary to 
my life and my peace, that I sink and die at his ab- 
sence. 1 feel within myself a sort of heavenly instinct 
that 1 want his presence, and cannot live without him. 
1 know he stands in no need of me, for he gives to all 
his creatures life, and breath, and being ; but I need 
his counsels and his comforts, his strength and his love : 
my soul is touched with such a divine influence, that 
it cannot rest while God withdraws, as the needle 
trembles and hunts after the hidden loadstone. If my 
God retire and hide himself, he will forgive a creature 
that loves him so well as to follow hard after him 
without ceasing, and is impatient and restless till he 
search him out ; " O that I knew where I might find 
him !" 

Though God is pleased to depart from me for a sea- 
son, yet 1 cannot let go all my nope ; he hides himself 
from my soul, yet I dare net think him an enemy, but 
only a concealed friend : if I could get near him, even 
to his seat, I know I should find it a mercy-seat, though 
perhaps judgment may sit there too. It is a throne of 
grace, says a Christian, because Jesus is there v. ith the 
blood of atonement ; and having such an high j)riest 
over the house of God, and such a new and living 
way of access by the blood of Christ, I will seek after 
him and address, myself to him: 1 will confess mine 
iniquities before him, and be sorry for my sins, which 
may have beclouded or eclipsed my heavenly sun, and 
hid his face from me ; 1 fear 1 have grieved his blessed 
Spirit, and provoked him to withdraw his kind influ- 
ences of light, strength, and comfort ; nor will I cease 
grieving for his absence till he return again. 



OF THE MIND, 407 

Come, O eternal Spirit, come and visit my poor dark 
and disconsolate soul ; come and awaken all my pow- 
ers to follow hard after my Father and my God. Come, 
invigorate my faith, and lead me to the Mediator, the 
blessed Jesus ; come, ojpen to me the promises, and let 
me into the covenant of his unchangeable love, ratified 
'and sealed with blood. If ever 1 find my God again, 
it is there I know I must find him ; Christ is the only 
way to' the Father. It is by the interest of his Son I 
shall get near to him, even to his seat ; then will I 
pour out all my woes and my wants in his sight ; 1 
will order ray cause before him, and fill my mouth 
with arguments. Will he plead against me with his 
great power ? No ; but he will put strength in me, aad 
assist and suffer me to prevail with him. 

Then, when I have found him whom my soul loveth, 
I will hold him fast, and not let him go : I will charge 
all the powers and passions of my nature not to yield to 
one sinful practice, nor provoke him to depart ; for he 
is my everlasting and my almighty Friend. 

Then, though I should have a thousand enemies set 
themselves against me, I would not be afraid ; yea, 
thou I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 
I will fear no evil, for 1 have found my God, and my 
God is with me. 



408 IMPROVEMENT 



XX. The Figure of a Cheruh. 

A CHERUB is a name used in scripture to denote 
eoiiae angelic power or powers under the figure of some 
strange animal : the plural number in the Hebrew is 
cherubim, which signifies cherubs, and I know not how 
our translators of the bible came so often to speak of 
cherubims, adding an s to the Hebrew plural number 
instead of the English plural, namely, cherubs. Per- 
haps some writers learned using the word cherubim in 
Latin instead of cherubi, might lead them into this 
grammatical irregularity. 

The Jews themselves greatly differ about the form 
or figure of a cherub. Josephus in his Antiquities, 
book iii. chap. 6. tells us, That cherubs are fiying ani- 
mals, like to none that were ever seen by man, and 
whose form no man knoweth. Abenezra, a learned 
Jew, supposes it to be a general name extending itself 
to all forms or figures, though in the writings of Moses 
he supposes it to come nearer the figure of a young 
man or boy. 

Some have imagined that the mere face of a boy with 
wings is sufficient to describe a cherub, and accordingly 
such figures are wrought into the ornaments of buildings 
and curtains, kc. but I know no just ground for tliis 
imagination, except it be that those on the ark were 
beaten out of the same mass of gold which made the 
mercy-seat : and it must be confessed this sort of figure 
is more easy to be thus formed than any tall shape Avith 
a body and feet. Exod. xxv. 10. and xxxvii. 7. 

It is generally represented in scripture like some 
strange living creature with one or more faces, having 
both wings and feet : when it has four faces, they are 
borrowed from a man, an ox, a lion, and an eagle : the 
wings are desc 'ibed as very large, and the feet, when they 
are particularly described, are like those of an ox or 
calf: but whether the whole figure be more like that of 
an ox, or of a man, the learned are not agreed. This is 



OF THE MIND. 4e9 

certain, that the several scriptures wherein cherubs are 
mentioned, can hardly be reconciled without supposing 
them represented in diflferent forms, sometimes nearer 
to one of those forms, and sometimes to the other. If 
therefore, after all our searches, we cannot come to a 
full determination, we must be content to acknowledge 
ou? ignorance, though, perhaps, by diligent inquiry, we 
may come pretty near to the truth. 

If we consult the derivation of the word, it seems to 
come from charab^ which, in the Chaldee, Syriac, and 
Arabic languages, signifies to " plough," which is the 
known work of oxen. This favours the sentiment of 
those who describe it as a flying ox. 

They tell us that cherub in Arabic, is " a ship that car- 
ries merchandise," and that a cherub is a chariot of 
God, appointed to carry the Shecinah^ gr bright glory, 
which is the symbol of God's presen# ; and therefore 
God is said to ride upon a cherub. Ps. xviii. II, jirchab 
al cherub, he rode on a cherub : and Psalm civ. 3. it is 
said he maketh the clouds his chariot, rechub ; so that 
by the transposition of a letter, which is frequent with 
tlie Hebrews, it seems to signify a chariot: and in 1 
Chron. xxviii, 18, the cherubs upon the ark are called 
" the chariots of the cherubims," and the whole figure in 
Ezekiel's vision had wheels all about it as a chariot, and 
yet it is sometimes called the cherub in the singular, and 
sometimes cherubim or cherubs. 

All this is true ; but in a chariot there are generally 
«ome animals represented as moving, drawing, or car- 
rying it. And thjugh in Ezekiel's vision it is a living 
or animated chariot, with living wheels which had the 
spirit of the animals in them, Ezek. i. 20, yet there are 
winged animals to move it, or to move with it. The 
whole is composed of four living creatures which had 
faces, and wings, and feet, and hands, joined together 
in a living machine with wheels, and the God of glory 
rode upon it. But let us proceed and consider several 
scriptures more particularly, and in order. 

The first place where we fiod the name mentioned, is 

Gen. iii. ult. " God placed cherubs and ajlaming sword 

to guard the way to the tree of life." This does not seem 

to mean a chariot or chariots, but Uving creatures: if 

Mm 



410 IMPROVEMENT 

they were in the shape of men, then a flaming sword 13 
waving in their hands. If in the form of flying oxen, 
then with flames about them, flashing out Hke a sword 
from their eyes, nostrils, or mouth. Perhaps the bra- 
'zen-footed bulls, breathing out flames, which guarded 
the golden fleece in Cholchis, may be derived hence 
by the fabulous Greeks ; 



" AdamanteisVulcanum naribus efflant ^ripedes 

" Tauri." Ovid. 



Or, as the Greeks were wont to compound and divide 
stories at pleasure, these bulls might keep the gardens 
of the Hesperides, where golden apples grew, that is, by 
the fabling inteifh-et-.ition, the fruit of the tree of life ; 
though generally, I confess, a dragon is made the guar- 
dian of them, which wild fable might arise from the 
serpent being there, Gen. iii 1 ; for stories taken from 
the Bible are variously mangled and confounded by the 
Heathens. 

Some have supposed indeed these cherubs and fla- 
ming sword are only a flaming division visible, made of 
burning pitch and such materials, and that this was kin- 
dled in the borders of that ground to guard it from men, 
and that it is attributed to angels after the Jewish man- 
ner : others think it the divine Shecinah itself, guarding 
the passage to the tree of life, and clierubs are added 
by Moses, to represent God's being attended with in- 
visible angels. But neither of these two last suppositions 
carry probability with them, because the word cherub 
is never used in narratives for mere invisible powers, 
nor for visible inanimate beings ; but it always signifies 
some visible figure of one animated being or more 
Joined together, though it is designed to denote these 
Invisible angelic powers. 

The next scripture where it is mentioned is Exod.. 
XXV. 18. Among the orders given to Moses for making 
the ark and the mercy-seat, with the two cherubs to 
fOver it with their wings, one at one end and the other 



OF THE MIND. 411 

at the other end: ver. 19, £0.* And whatsoever figure 
belonged to these cherubs "which is so much unknown 
to us, it w^as certainly a common idea and well known 
figure to the Jews in that day ; for Moses doth not con- 
cern himself to give any particular description of them, 
as he does almost of every thing else, ana yet the Jew- 
ish artificers made them right. 

Some think that these tv/o cherubs on the ark were 
in the shape of flying oxen, or something near to that 
figure, and that for these reasons : 

1. Because both^their faces looked towards one anoth- 
er, and yet both faces downward towards the mercy- 
seat, Exod. XXV. 20. and xxxvii. 9 ; which posture and 
description is well suited to an ox, but not so happily 
adapted to the figure and aspect of the face of a man. 

2. Because the same face which is called the face of 
an ox, Ezek. i. 10. is called the face of a cherub, Ezek. 
X. 14 ; and thus a cherub's face is actually and expressly 
distinguished from that of a man, and determined to be 
the face of an ox. 

3. Because God is said to ride upon a cherub, Psalm 
xviii. 10. Though this be a metaphorical expression to 
describe the grandeur and majesty of God, yet the 
metaphor must be del ived from some correspondent 
sensible figure : now the figure of a winged ox, or, at 
least, of a chariot carried or drawn by winged oxen, is a 
much fitter vehicle to ride upon in glory, and in majesty 
and terror, than the figure of a man. 

4. Aaron's calf is reasonably supposed to be a cherub, 
for neither he nor his abettors can well be imagined so 
foolish as to make the figure of a mere calf, as some 
would have it, or of the Eg5'^ptian god Apis, who was 
worshipped under the form of an ox, when it was made 

* The cherubs in Solomon's temple stand in another situation, 1 Kings 
vi. 23, for they are placed side by side, so that their four wings reached 
the whole length of the most holy place. But these seem to be made as 
some further attendants on the Shecinah or divine glory, besides the two 
cherul^ which were on the mercy-seat ; for it was the very same ark which 
Moses made that was introduced into Solomon's temple, 1 Kings viii. 6 ; 
and the cherubs on it were beaten out of the same mass of gold which 
made the mercy-seat or covering of the ark, Exod. xxxvii. 7, 8 ; so that 
it is most likely those ancient cherubs continued there still, and Solomon's 
were additional attendants in the most holy pla.ce, of a much larger size 
and overshadowing those on the mercy-seat. " 



Am IMPROVEMENT 

an idol for the Israelites to adore, since the Egyptra«|: 
e<>di, as well as men, partook of the vengeance of the 
God of Israel for the oppression of his people. Numb, 
xxxiii. 4. 

It is therefore much more credible that Aaron's calf 
w;isdesis;ned as a visible symbol of the presence of the 
God of Israel, even that very God who released them 
from th(!ir Egyptian masters. The proclnmation made 
b«'fore t!)is imai^e was this, " These are Ihij ^ods, O Israel, 
who broHs^ht thee out of the land of Egrjp't. Kxnd. xxxii. 

4. It would be contrary to all reason to represent the 
E5yptian gods as bringing Isreal from Egypt, for then 
they would have been kinder to the Israelites, who were 
strangers, than they were to their own worshippers, 
the EgyiJtians. Besides, it was a feast to Jehovah, the 
God of Israel, which they celebrated. Exodus xxxii. 

5. and therefore it is more likely that Aaron's calf was 
some symbol of the presence of the God of Israel ; and 
that it might be the figure of a cherub, on or over which 
they would suppose the divine Shecinah or glory of 
God to sit; for so it appeared on the ark when it was 
made, and so it appeared in Ezekiel's visions, Ezek. i, 
£6 — 28. and X. 18, 19. So David describes it, Psalm xviii. 
10, when the God of Israel rode on a cherub. 

Shall it be said, that Aaron had not yet received the 
order for making the cherubs on the ark, and therefore 
could not know the figures ? But I answer, that cherubs 
■were well known to the Jews of that age, as I hinted 
before, since Moses gives no description of them to 
instruct the artificers : they were known of old probably 
to the patriarchs and to mankind, as emblems of divine 
majesty and terror, guarding the way to the tree of 
life'. Gen. iii. 24 ; and some have supposed that Aaron 
■with his sons and seventy elders saw God in the mount, 
Exod. xxiv. 10. riding on a cherub, as in Ezek. i. j-ince 
the other part of that description of God in Exodus rs 
much like that in Ezekiel i. 26, and x. 1. But I proceed 
to another argument to prove chirubs to be flying dxen. 

5. Another reason why a cherub is PUj>po?ea to be a 
winged ox, is this: Jeroboam, the king of Israel, is 
tnost reasonably supposed to imitate the worship of 
Jerusalem, when he set up golden calves at Dan and 



OF THE MIND. 415 

Bethel, and thus to represent God dwelling between 
the cherubs on the mercy-seat, that the other tribes of 
Israel might have the same worship as the Jews at Je- 
rusalem, and that the ten tribes might not be inclined 
to go up to Jerusalem to worship, and be in danger of 
returning to their king llehoboam again : for it is hardly 
to be supposed, that Jeroboam should so soon persuade 
all the ten tribes into such gross idolatry as to worship 
mere calves, though the scriptures calls them so, as 
usually it does all idols by some word of contempt. 

This idolatry, or worshipping a mere calf, would have 
been too plain and too gross to be imposed upon thepeo- 

51e at first, and that so soon after their separation irom 
udah and Jerusalem, this being so expressly contrary 
to the second command ; "Thou shall not make unto 
thyself any graven image, nor the likeness of any thin^ 
that is in heaven, or earth, or the water, fcc." Now if 
we suppose a cherub to be the figure of a winged ox, or 
any other winged (igun?, with the face and feet of an 
ox superadded, it will not be the likeness or image of 
any tninr, in heaven, earth, or water, and consequently 
Jeroboam might persuade the people that this was 
not plaluly forbidden ; nay, more, that it was ordered 
by Moses in the tabernacle, and such figures were in 
the temple. 

Let it be further added, that when the worship of 
Baal was introduced into Israel by Ahab, it seems to 
be a diiferent idol from the calves ^»t Dan and Bethel, 
and yet it was something akin to it. The image of 
Baal was the image of a heifer, as we are told in the 
first chapter of Tobit, ver. 5. and it is evident that 
Baal is sometimes used in the masculine, and some- 
times in the feminine. See 1 Kings xvi. 31. in the 
septuogint; 1 Kings xix. 18. and the citation of the 
text in Rom. xi. 4. But if Baal was a common 
heifer, it is probable these calves of Jeroboam were 
something different ; for it is plain from many scrip- 
tures, that Baal was an idol of the Cnnaanites, which 
Ahab worshipped when both king and people had 
grown l)old m their idolatry: but the (talves were 
designed by Jeroboam, for symbols of the presence of 
Jehovah the God of Israel, and therefore probably 
thov were not common calves, but cherubs, or wipg- 
31 m 2 



<14 IMPROVEMENT 

ed oxen, or a figure near akin to those in the temple oX 
Jerusalem. 

6. It is further added, as another reason, that though 
the tribe of Judah imitated Israel in all their other 
shapes of idolatry, yet they never imitated Jeroboam's 
«alves: now what reason can be given for this, unless 
it be because the Jews are supposed to have had the 
yery originals at Jerusalem, that is, the cherubs upon 
the mercy-seat in the form of flying calves or oxen. 

These arguments seem to carry great weight with 
them, yet others have supposed the cherub to he a 
winged man, because it is described often with one face 
at least as a man, and also with hands in scripture. 
Some of the Jews say, it is a young man in beauty and 
vigour, because it has been generally taken for granted 
that the cherubs represent angels, which are God's at- 
tendants, w hose vigour and beauty are ever fresh and 
immortal, and angels, they say, always appear under 
the figure of men : and they suppose that in this form 
multitudes of them were wrought in the curtains 
and vail and ail the parts of the tabernacle and tem- 
ple, as imitating the presence of angels where God 
dwells. 

It is granted that cherubs represent angelic powers, 
attending on the great God, but whether the form of a 
winded man were wrought on the curtains or vail is 
yet in doubt: and whether this argument be sufficient 
to outweigh all that is said in favour of the shape of 
winged oxen, let the reader judge. 

This I think is remarkable, that though angels are al- 
ways introduced speaking as men with a voice, and 
seraphs also speak, as Isa. vi. 3, 6, 7, yet I do not find 
that cherubs ever spoke ; and when Ezekiel tells us in so 
distinguishing a manner, they had the hands of a man 
under their wings, Ezek. i. B, it looks as if all the rest 
of their parts were not exactly those of a man, but of 
a creature which is not so much designed to perform 
rational or human offices, since it appears ihere, and in 
other places, as some kind of living vehicle or divine 
equipage, rather than as a rational attendant on the 
^majesty of God, exercising its intellectual powers. 

Perhaps we have not any place of scripture from 



OF THE MIND. M 

,which we can derive the complete figure of a cherub 
better than the first, and tenth, and forty-first chapters 
of Ezekiel ; for all the four animals in Ezekiel's vision, 
which are mentioned, Ezek. i. 5, and x. 14, are several 
times called cherubs. 

If we ioquire what their body or general figure was. 
the prophet says, it was the figure or likeness of a mam, 
Ezek. i. 5. But each of them had four faces, and each 
had four wings, ver. 6. Their legs were straight, prob- 
ably like the four legs of a calf or ox, oi- like that of a 
man ; and their feet were cloven as an ox's foot, ver. 7. 
Under their wings they had the hands of a man on their 
four sides, ver. 8. . 

Each of them had the face of a man before, and 
this stood in the middle between the face of a lion on 
the right side, and the face of an ox or a calf on the 
left side ; and the face of an eagle perhaps was placed 
in the middle above them or behind, though it is not 
expressly said it was behind, or above ; but it is proba- 
ble the fpur faces looked four different wa;^s. 

But here it must be observed, that what is called the 
face of an ox, Ezek. i. 10. is called the face of a cherub,- 
supposing them the same. Ezek. x. 14. A cherub, ha&' 
also the feet of a calf or ox, as before mentioned. So 
that a cherub appears, upon the whole^ to be nearer to 
the figures of a winged ox and a man with wings, than 
to any other creature, for it has the hands, body, and 
face of a man ; and it has also the face and feet of an ox : 
it has nothing of a lion but the face, and that is not al- 
ways mentioned : it has indeed the wings of an eagle 
always, but an eagle's face is mentioned as one part of 
a cherub no where else but in this vision. 

Note. — ^This vision does not describe whether each 
of those animals had four feet or two ; but it is probable 
they had but too feet, because it is said, they had the 
likeness of a man, that is, the figure of his body. 

It is plain they had four wings, ver. 6, two of their 
wings were stretched upward as for flight, and two 
covered their bodies, that is, the lower part of tlieir 
body, for which decency requires a covering.' It is 
very t:idiculous, therefore, to describe them, a§ §ome 



41S IMPROVEMENT 

painters do like naked boys with little wings on their 
shoulders only. 

In these four various faces, the various properties of 
angels seem to be represented, namely. The understan- 
dhif^jand beauty of a man, the obedience and labour, or 
diligence of an ox, the courage and strength of a lion, 
logf^her with the sharp sight and swiftness of an eagle 
in fulfilling tlie commands of God, and in administering 
his providence. 

It may not be improper also to take notice here, that 
these four creatures, namely, a man, a lion, an ox, and 
an eagle, are unanimously reported by the Jews, though 
not with sufficient proof, to have been wrought upon 
the standards of the four leading tribes of tlie camp 
of Israel, as they are ranged JNumb. ii. namely, a 
lion the standard ofJudah, a man the standard of Reu- 
ben, an ox the standard of Ephraim, and an eagle the 
standajd ofDan. And these also were the figures of 
the four living creatures, in Greek which ought not to be 
translated beasts, Rev. iv. 6, which are before the throne 
of God, who had each of them six wings, and were full 
of eyes, and are ever engaged in divine worship. I'hese 
figures in these several places may denote, that where- 
everGodis, the creatures that attend him, whether 
they be men or angels, should be furnished with these 
qualifications, namely, understanding, obedience, cour- 
age, and swiftness. 

But let us proceed to search out, wiiatissaid yet fur- 
ther concerning a cherub in scripture. 

In Ezek. xli. 19, 25. The inner part of Ezekiel's 
temple was adorned with intermingled cherubs and 
palm-trees, carved on the walls and doors. Here every 
cherub had two faces, namely, that of a man and that 
of a lion ; but as they are called cherubs, w^e may still 
conclude their feet were the feet of a calf or ox. And 
why may not Solomon's temple be adorned with the 
^ame sort of cherubs and palm-trees, 1 Kings vi. 29, that 
is, with the faces of a man and a lion, and the feet of an 
ox, though their faces are not expressly mentioned in 
that place. 

Solomon's ten lavers for the temple had their several 
luases adorned in, the border between the ledges, with 



OF THE MIND. 41? 

lions, oxen, and cherubs, 1 Kines vii. 29 ; so that here 
a cherub seems to be mentioned instead of the face of 
a man, and to be distinguished from an ox, though in 
Ezekiel's vision, chap. i. andx. the face of a cherub is 
phiinly tlie same with the face of an ox. Yet on the 
plates of the ledges were cherubims, lions, and palm- 
trees, 1 Kings vii. 36, where neither the face of an ox nor 
man is mentioned. 

Perhaps these differences may in some measure be 
reconciled, if we observe that these cherubs which ador- 
ned the walls of Ezekiel's visionary temple, and of 
Solomon's real temple, and the borders of the brazen 
lavers, are only graven or carved upon the flat or plane, 
or at least, with some little protuberance above the flat, 
which the Italians call Basso Relievo : and then that 
figure which would have had all four faces visible if it 
had stood forth by itself as a real animal, or a statute, 
namely, that of a man, a lion, an ox, and an eagle, can 
have but two faces visible, or three at the most, when 
figured upon a plane or flat surface; the other one or 
two being hid behind : and thus the cherubs may be in 
all these places the sara(> four-faced animals, and yet 
only two or three of their faces appear, according to 
their designed situation and the art of perspective. 
A.nd perhaps Solomon might diversify these figures 
for the sake of variety in different parts of the sacred 
works.* 

Upon the whole, what if we should conclude a cherub 
to be most usually figured with a body like a man with 
four wings, two whereof are stretched for flight, and tw(!)» 
covering the lower parts ; with the feet of an ox or 
calf ; with the head of a man or an ox, whatever other 
faces were joined to it, whether lions or eagles, or 
whether it liad any other face or no. It is more likely 

* It is the opinion of some learned men that Ezekiel's temple was but a 
kind of repetition of the pattern of the same temple which God gave to 
David, and by which Solomon built his temple. And that this pattern 
was given to Ezekrel that he might show it to the Jews, if they were pious 
and obedient, to animate them to hope for another temple in" their own 
land, and to instruct them in the building of it when they should be re- 
leased from Babylon, Ezek. xl. 4, and xliJi. 10, 11 *, since it was supposed 
none remained who could remember so much of their oW temple as t<> 
glTe particular directions for the building of it,. 



418 IMPROVEJVIENT 

there was but one sort efface belonging to each of the 
two cherubs on the mercy-seat, because it is said, their 
faces look towards one another ; but whether this was 
the face of an ox or a man is not yet absolutely deter- 
mined. 

I think we may allow Jeroboam to be supposed to 
imitate these cherubs which were on the mercy-seat, 
in his idolatrous worship ; and though they had not the 
perfect shape of a calf, yet they might be called calves 
m scripture language, by way of reproach and contempt, 
becaube they had the feet of a calf if not the head also. 

Jt is evident that Aaron's idol, which was called the 
golden calf, had more of the resemblance of an ox or 
calf than of a man, because the Israelites are said to 
change then- glory, that is, their God, into the similitude 
of an ox that eateth grass, Psalm cvi. 19, £0, which 
would hardly have been thus expressed if the idol had 
nothing of a calf but its feet. 

If any will iuiagine that in Psalm xviii. where God is 
said to ride upon a cherub, the grandeur and terror of 
the appearance may require the whole figure of a flying 
ox, rather than of a flying man, or rather of aflj/ing ani- 
mal with all these four faces, I will not oppose it, since 
it is plain from this whole account, that a cherub is de- 
scribed sometimes more hke a winged ox, and some- 
times more like a winged man with feet like oxen or 
calves. But where it is represented complete in all its 
various forms united, as in the first and tenth chapters 
of Ezekiel, it seems to be the body of a winged man 
with calves' feet, and with four faces, namely, that of a 
man, an ox, a lion, and an eagle ; and thus it is always 
designed to represent the various properties of angels, 
which are attendants on the blessed God, more per- 
fectly than any one of these creatures could do alone. 
Perhaps when the Jewish nation shall be converted 
and become behevers in Christ, there may be such a 
new effusion of the Spirit on men, or such a happy dis- 
covery some way made of the darker parts of the Mo- 
saic (Economy, and the writings of the prophets, as may 
show us more of the resemblance which God designed 
between the types of the law in the temple and priest- 
hood, and their antitypes in the gospel, than has evetr 



OF THE MIND. 419 

yet appeared ; and among other things the form of a 
cherub, as an attendance of angehc beings on the 
majesty of God in the holy of hoUes, may appear more 
conspicuously in its original truth and glory. 



■ XXL The Author's solemn Address to the great and 
ever blessed God, on a Review of what he had written 
in the Trinitarian Controversy, prefixed hy him to 
some Pieces on that Subject^ which it was not judged 
necessary to publish. 

Righteous art thou, O I.ord, when I plead 
with thee ; yet I may talk with thee concerning thy 
judgments. Permit me, O my God and Father, to 
plead with thee concerning the revelations of thy nature 
and thy grace, which are made in thy gospel ; and let 
me do it with all that humble reverence, and that holy 
awe of thy Majesty, which becomes a creature in the 
presence of his God. 

Hast thou not, OLord God Almighty ! hast thou not 
transacted thy divine and ir/iportant aftairs among men 
by thy Son, Jesus Christ, and by thy Holy Spirit ? And 
hast thou not ordained that men should transact their 
highest and most momentous concerns with thee by 
thy Son and by thy Spirit? Hast thou not by the 
mouth of thy Son, Jesus, required all that profess his 
religion, to be washed with water, in the name of the 
Father, and the Son, and the holy Ghost ? Is it not my 
duty, then, to inquire, who or what are these sacrecl 
names, and what they signify ? Must I not know thee, 
the only true God, and Jesus Christ, thy Son, whom 
thou hast sent, that I may fulfil all my respective duties 
toward thyself and thy Son, in hope of eternal life ? 
Hath not thy Son himself appealed to thee in his last 
prayer, that eternal life depends upon this knowl- 
edge? And since thou hast made so much use of thy 
Holy Spirit in our religion, must I not have some 
knowledge of this thy Spirit also, that I may pay thee 



420 IMPROVEMENT 

all these honours thou requircst from this divine reve 
lation ? 

Hist thou not ascribed divine names, and titles, and 
characters to thy Son and thy Holy Spirit, in thy word, 
as well as assumed them to thyself? And hast thou not 
appointed to them such glorious offices as cannot be 
executed Avithout something of diAinity or true god- 
head in them ? And yet art not thou, and thou alone, 
the true God? How shall a poor weak creature be able 
to adjust and reconcile these clashing ideas, and to un- 
derstand this mystery? Or must 1 believe and act 
blindfold, without understanding ? 

Holy Father, thou kno west how firmly I believe, with 
all my soul, whatsoever thou hast plainly written and 
revealed in thy word. I believe thee to be the only 
true God, the supreme of beings, self-sufficient for thine 
own existence, and for all thy infinite affairs and trans- 
actions among creatures. I believe thy Son, Jesus 
Christ, to be all-sufficient for the glorious woik of 
mediation between God and man, to which thou hast 
appointed him. I belinve he is a man in whom dwells 
all the fulness of the Godhead bodilv. I believe he is 
one with God ; he is God manifested in the flesh ; and 
that the man Jesus is so closely and inseparably united 
with the true and eternal Godhead as to become one 
person, even as the human soul and body makes one 
man. I believe that this illustrious person is hereby 
possessed of divine dignity, sufficient to make full 
atonement for the sins of men, by his sufferings and 
death, even though sin be accounted an infinite evil ; 
and that he hath all-sufficient power to raise himself 
from the dead, to ascend to heaven, and fulfil the 
blessed works for which thou hast exalted him, and to 
govern and judge the world in thine appointed time. 

I believe also thy blessed Spirit hath almighty power 
and influence to do all thy will ; to instruct men effec- 
tually in divine truths; to change the hearts of fallen 
mankind from sin to holinsss ; to carry on thy Avork of 
illumination, sanctification, and consolation, on all the 
souls of all thy children, and to bring them safe to the 
heavenly world. I yield myself up joyfully and thank- 
fully to this method of thy salvation, as it is revealed 



OP THE MIND. 421 

fji thy gospel. But I acknowledge my darkness still. 
I want to have this wonderful doctrine, of the all-suffi- 
ciency of thy Son and thy Spirit for these divine works, 
made a little plainer. May not thy humlSle creature be 
permitted to know what share they can have in thy 
deity ? Is it vain and sinful curiosity, to desire to have 
this article set in such a light as may not diminish the 
eternal glory of the unity of the true God, nor of the 
supremacy of thee, the Father of all ? 

Hadst ttiou informed me, gracious Father, in any 
place of thy word, that this divine doctrine is not to be 
understood by men, and yet they were required to 
believe it, I would have subdued all my curiosity to 
faith, and submitted my wandering and doubtful ima- 
ginations as far as it was possible, to the holy and wise 
determinations of thy w^ord. But I cannot find thou 
hast any where forbid me to understand it, or to make 
these inquiries. My conscience is the best natural 
light thou hast put within me ; and since thou hast given 
me the scriptures, my own conscience bids me search 
the scriptures, to find out truth and eternal life : it bids 
me try all things, and hold fast that which is good. 
And thy own word, by the same expressions, encoura- 
ges this holy practice. I have, therefore, been long 
searching into this divine doctrine, that I may pay thee 
due honour with understanding. Surely I ought to 
know the God whom I worship, whether he be one 
pure and simple being, or whether thou art a threefold 
Deity, consisting of the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
Spirit. 

Dear and blessed God, hadst thou been pleased, in 
any one plain scripture, to have informed me which of 
the different opinions about the holy Trinity, among 
the contending parties of Christians, had been true, 
thou knowest with how much zeal, satisfaction, and 
joy, my unbiassed heart would have opened*itself to 
receive and embracevthe divine discovery. Hadst thou 
told me plainly, in any single text, that the Father, 
Son, and Holy Spirit, are three real, distinct persons 
in thy divine nature, I had never sufl'ered myself to be 
bewildered in so many doubts, nor embarrassed with 
SO many strong fears of assenting to the mere inven- 



422 IMPROVEMENT 

tions of men, instead of divine doctrine ; but I should, 
have humbly and immediately accepted thy word, so 
far as it was possible for me to understand it, as the 
only rule of my faitli ; or, hadst thou been pleased so 
to express and include this proposition in the several 
scattered parts of thy book, from whence my reason 
and conscience might with ease find out, and with 
certainty infer this doctrine, I should have joyfully 
employed all my reasoning pow ers, with their utmost 
skill and activity, to have found out this inference, and 
ingrafted it into' my soul. 

Thou hast taught me, holy Father, by the prophets, 
that the way of holiness, in the times of the gospel, or 
under the kingdom of the Messiah, shall be a highway, 
a plain and easy path ; so that the wayfaring man or 
the stranger, though a fool, shall not err therem. And 
thou hast called the poor and the ignorant, the mean 
and foolish things of this world, to the knowledge of 
thyself and thy Son, and taught them to receive and 
partake of the salvation which thou hast provided. 
But how can such weak creatures ever take in so 
strange, so difficult, and so pbstruse a doctrine as this ; 
in the explication and defelice whereof multitudes of 
men, even men of learning and piety, have lost them- 
selves in infinite subtilities of dispute and endless 
mazes of darkness ? And can this strange and perplex- 
ing notion, of three real and distinct persons going to 
make up one true God, be so necessary imd so impor- 
tant a part of that Christian doctrine which, in the Old 
Testament and the New, is represented as so plain and 
so easy, even to the meanest understandings ? 

Othou searcher of hearts, who knowest all things, I 
appeal to thee concerning the sincerity of my inquiries 
into these discoveries of thy word. Thou knowesi aie, 
thou hast seen me, and hast tried my heart towards 
thee : if there be any lurking hypocrisy in my heart, 
and secret bias towards any thing but truth, uncover it, 
O Father of lights, and banish it from my soul for ever^ 
If thine eye discover the least spark of criminal preju- 
dice in any corner of my soul, extinguish it utterly,- 
that I may not be led astray from the truth, in matters 



^1 



OF THE MIND. 42S 

of such importance, by the least glance oi" error or 
mistake. 

Thou art witness, O my God, with what diligence, 
with what constancy and care, I have read and search- 
ed thy holy word ; now early and late, by night and 
by day, I have been making these inquiries. How 
fervently have 1 been seeking thee on my bended 
knees, and directing my humble addresses to thee to 
enlighten my darkoess, and to show me the meaning of 
thy word, that I may learn what I must believe, and what 
I must practise with regard to this doctrine, in order to 
please thee and obtain eternal life ! 

Great God, who seest all things, thou hast beheld 
what busy temptations have been often fluttering 
about my heart to call it oflf from these laborious and 
difficult inquiries, and to give up thy word and thy 
gospel as an unintelUgible book, and betake myself to 
the light of nature and reason: but thou hast been 
pleased, by thy divine power, to scatter these tempta- 
tions, and fix my heart and my hope again upon that 
Saviour and that eternal life which thou hast revealed 
in thy word, and proposed therein to our knowledge 
and our acceptance. Blessed be the name of my God, 
who has not suffered me to abandon the gospel of his 
Son, Jesus ! and blessed be that holy Spirit that has 
kept me attentive to the truth delivered in thy gospel, 
and inclined me to wait longer in my^earch of these 
divine truths, under the hope of thy ^acious illumina- 
tion. 

1 humbly call thee to witness, O my God, what a holy 
jealousy, 1 ever wear about my heart, lest I should do 
the slightest dishonour to thy supreme Majesty, in any 
of nay inquiries or determinations. Thou seest what a 
religious fear, and what a tender solicitude I maintain 
on my soul, lest 1 should think or speak any thing to 
dihiinish the grandeurs and honours of thy Son Jesus, 
my dear Mediator, to whom I owe my everlasting 
hopes. Thou knowest how much afraid I am of 
speaking one word which may be construed into a 
neglect of thy blessed Spirit, from whom I hope 1 am 
imy receiving happy influences of light and strength. 



4£4 IMPROYEMENT 

Guard all the motions of my mind, O Almighty ©o^ 
against every thing that borders upon thf se dangers^ 
Forbid my thoughts to indulge, and forbid my pen to 
write, one word that should sink those grana ideaa 
which belong to thyself, or thy Son, or thy holy Spirit, 
Forbid it, O my God, that ever I should be so unhappy 
as to unglorify my Father, my Saviour, or my Sancti- 
fier, in any of my. sentiments op expressions, concern- 
ing them. 

Blessed and faithful God, hast thou not promised, 
that the meek thou wilt guide in judgment, the meek 
thou wilt teach thy way ? Hast thou not told us, by 
Isaiah, thy prophet, that thou wilt brine the blind by a 
way which they knew not, and wilt lead them in paths 
which they have not known ? Hast thou not informed 
us, by the prophet Hosea, that if we follow on to know 
the Lord, thpn we shall know him ? Hath not thy Son, 
our Saviour, assured us, that our Heavenly Father wilj 
give his Holy Spirit to them who ask him ? And is he 
not appointed to guide us into all truth ? Have I not 
sought the gracious guidance of thy good Spirit con- 
tinually ? Am I not truly sensible of my own darkness 
and weakness, my dangerous prejudices on every side, 
and my utter insufficiency for my own conduct? Wilt 
thou leave such a poor creature, bewildered among a 
thousand perplexities which are raised by the various 
opinions and contrivances of men to explain thy divine 
truth ? 

Help me. Heavenly Father, for I am quite tired and 
weary of these human explainings, so various and 
uncertain. When wilt thou explain it to me thyself, O 
my God, by the secret and certain dictates of thy Spirit, 
according to the intimations of thy word ? nor let any 
pride of reason, nor any affectation of novelty, nor 
any criminal bias whatsoever, turn my heart aside 
from hearkening to these divine dictates of thy word 
and thy Spirit. Suffer not any of my native corrup- 
tions, nor the vanity of my imagination, to cast a mist 
over my eyes, while I am searching after the knowledge 
of thy mind and will, for my eternal salvation ! 

I intreat, O most merciful Father, that thou wilt not 
mSev the remnant of my short life to be wagted ii?i 



OF THE MIND. 4 25 

such endless wanderings in quest of thee and thy Son, 
Jesus, as great part of ray past days have been ; but 
let my sincere endeavours to know thee, in ali the w.iys 
whereby thou hast discovered thyself in thy word, he 
crowned with such success, that my soul, being estab- 
lished in every needful truth by the Holy Spirit, I may 
spend my remaining life accoi-di:ii^ to the rules of thy 
gospel : and may, with all the bo;y and happy creation, 
ascribe glory and honour, wisdom and power, to thee, 
who sittest upon the throne, and to the Lamb, for ever 
and for ever. 



THE END. 



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James k John Harper, Printers, 
138 Fulton-Street. 

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CONTENTS. 






PART I. 

XIFE of the Author . . ^^ 

Pii tace, ]'ar' I 

Prelace, i'ai 1 11 ---..--.. ..] 
The liurouucaun ----- .-..i 

Ciiapier 1. Ge;i>;ial rules for the improvement of knowledge - j 

Chap. 11. five methods of improving-, described and compared, viz. 
Observation, reaaing, insiruciion oy lectures, conversation, and 
stuUy,withtlieir several atlvantages anciuefects - - - - J 
Cliap. 111. Of observation, either by the senses or the mind - - >■ 
Chap. IV. Of reading anu booh>, with di. ections leiaiing thereto 
Chap. V. The jucigmeni of boolts, both ai>probaiii<r ana censure 
Chap. VI. Ofiiviiiginstructior.saudieciures,of lea. jiersaiid learners - < 
Chap. VTl. ul learning a language;, pari.culariy ibc Latin 
Chap. Vlll. 01 inquu'ing into the sense and meaning ot auj writer 

or speaker, whether human or divine 

Chap. IX. C't C0iiveisa:iun and profiting by it, ana of persons- lit or 

unfit for tree converse - - 

Chaj^i. X. Of liisputes, ana general rules relating to ihem 
Chap. Al. Of Sociatical disputation, by question and answer - - 1 
Chap. XII. Of forensic disputes in courts ol justice or public assem- 
blies 1 

Chap. XIII. Of academic or scholastic disputes, and the rules of them, 

and iiow far they may be useful .---.-- 1 
Chap. AiV. Of study, or meditation, and the final determination of 

things by our own juugmeni 1 

Chap. XV. Of fixing lixC attention 1 

Chap. XVI. Of enlarging the capacity of the mind - - - - 1 
Chap. XVli. Of theuieinoiy, and the improvement thereof - • 1 
Chap. XVIII. 01 aeterminiug a question j several cautions about it ; 
cf reason and revelation-, of argument and ridicule 5 of assent only 
in proportion to evidence, ic - ' ^ ' ' ' ' "7 
Chap. XIX Of inquiring into causes and elfects - - - - I 
Chap. XiL. Of the sciences, and their uses in particular professions - 1 

PART II. 

THE Introduction - - - " ,." " " ' ' ' ^ 

Chapter I. Aleihod of teaching, and reading lectures - - - 2 

Chau. II. Of an instructive style - - - - - - - 2 

Chap. Ill- Ot convincing of truth, or delivering Irom error - - ^ 

Chap. IV. The use and abuse of authority S 

Chap. V. Of managing the prejudices of men S 

Chap. VI. Of instruction by preaching ^ 

Ciiap. VII. Of writing books for the pubhc ^ 

^hap. VIII. Of writing and reading controversies - - - - i 

A discourse on the education of children 2 

E^ays and composures on various subjects : ! : " ' *» 



